


and you play along

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Fluff, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-12 01:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19218805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “How’d you end up in the theatre department?” Jack asks, gesturing toward the two stools in the booth as he steps backward to take a seat in one. Tentative, Sammy follows suit. It’s less intimidating, both of them sitting in front of a rather large soundboard. Gives Sammy something else to look at. “Mary just told me she found me an assistant who was doing homework at rehearsal.”“My best friend’s playing Algernon,” Sammy says, and leans over the board to the small window separating the sound booth from the black box. He can just make out Ben in one of the corners, jumping up and down. Probably a warm-up, since Emily and Reagan are doing it next to him, but that’s also just Ben’s energy. “I go into anaphylactic shock when he’s more than two feet from me.”Sammy turns to see Jack biting down on a smile. Christ, he’s cute. His eyes are green, and Sammy hates that especially about him.[A ridiculous, pining college theatre au.]





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> New fic! Very excited for this one, and it'll be pretty long, too. Hope you enjoy!

Sammy is, naturally, thrilled for Ben when he gets a role in the university theatre department’s production of _The Importance of Being Earnest._ Ben is a natural Algernon – loud, clever, charming, and as in-your-face as they come. Ben won’t stop chattering about how happy he is to get to be onstage again, first time since high school, and when Ben is happy, Sammy is happy. Easy math.

That’s until the first night of rehearsals when Ben’s halfway across campus from seven in the evening on, and Sammy’s stuck alone in the apartment eating frozen bananas covered in melted chocolate on his own.

Sammy’s so desperately bored that he kind of wants to fall asleep before Ben gets back but makes himself wait up. Ben has to walk back in the dark by himself, and he’s very small and could get mugged and might need to call Sammy for help.

That’s where Sammy’s mind is taking him right now. It is, at the very least, a possibility. Even if it’s an unlikely one.

Ben does end up making it back home in one piece but Sammy stands by his paranoia.  

The next night, Sammy figures he’ll just go to the library for the duration of Ben’s rehearsal and work on his communications essay, but he can’t focus for more than five minutes at a time. Sammy doesn’t think he’s capable of doing schoolwork anymore without Ben’s constant interjections and not-as-funny-as-he-thinks-they-are jokes, quite honestly.

The third night, Sammy decides to stop pretending like he’s capable of existing by himself, because he clearly isn’t, and goes with Ben to his stupid goddamn rehearsal.

“Where are you going?” Ben asks when Sammy throws an arm around his shoulder once they’re out the door of the coffee shop they’d been studying at, and starts tugging him in the direction of the arts buildings.

“With you,” Sammy says like it should be obvious, and keeps his voice blasé so Ben won’t question him. “There’s a little lobby area where I can sit and study, right?”

Ben makes a fond noise as he tugs on Sammy’s arm. “You missed me!”

“I did no such thing,” Sammy says, but it’s barely a front. He can’t say it, he needs to retain some respectability, but he knows Ben knows better than to listen to his words. “I just need to study for ethics and the theatre building is as good a place as any.”

“You can come in and watch!” Ben’s delighted, which is, quite honestly, the response Sammy had wanted from him. “It’s a grad student-directed show so rehearsals aren’t closed or anything. You’ll really like it, we’re just blocking right now, but the girl who’s playing Cecily is _so_ cool.”

“I’m studying ethics,” Sammy grumbles through his smile, Ben forcefully nudging their hips together and making Sammy stumble in on the sidewalk. “Fine, fine, I’m having Ben Withdrawal.”

“I missed you too!” Ben grins. “Everything is in muted color without you there brightening it up. See! Look how bright you are!”

“Shut up,” Sammy grumbles  and ducks away as Ben reaches up to pinch his cheek, but doesn’t move his arm from around Ben’s shoulder. “I can watch you butcher Wilde for a few hours and it won’t kill me.”

“We’re having fun with Wilde,” Ben declares. “Well, I am, anyway.”

“You make everything fun,” Sammy says and Ben coos in response. Sammy gets more straightforward about his affections when he’s been wallowing  alone for two days, apparently.

Sammy has been in the theatre building a handful of times before because Ben’s minoring in theatre, but he’s never actually spent any chunk of time in the building. It’s a grey brick of a place, which doesn’t seem to fit the whole theatre flamboyance, but far be it from Sammy to judge what’s on the outside.

It’s a _large_ grey brick though, which means that there are three different theatres inside. Ben tugs Sammy down the main staircase to get to the basement that adjoins to the black box theatre. Ben had a clowning class in there last spring, Sammy remembers. He’d teased Ben a lot about the general concept of clowning, and also having a class for it.

There’s a guy and a girl standing next to the door to the theatre loose clothes that Sammy assumes are made for theatre-type movement, and Ben waves at them both excited as he pulls Sammy along.

“Hey, guys!” Ben greets them both when they’re still a few feet away. “Sammy, this is Tim and Mary. Mary’s the director and Tim’s playing Jack.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sammy says, and thinks about shaking their hands but that would be disentangling his arm from around Ben’s shoulder and Ben’s showing no signs of movement.

“Oh, are you Ben’s boyfriend?” Tim asks. He’s tall and broad in a way that Sammy would be intimidated by if his tone wasn’t so polite. Plus, he’s playing the lead in an Oscar Wilde play, so Sammy can’t be too frightened.

What he can do is make an _euch_ noise in the back of his mouth and lift his arm off of Ben as if he’s been burned. Ben laughs under his breath and rolls his eyes up at Sammy.

“Definitely not his boyfriend,” Sammy pretends like there’s a bug on his arm as he shakes it Ben starts shoving at him, groaning. “A codependent best friend who will sometimes resemble a clingy boyfriend, but certainly not _actually_ his boyfriend.”

“You’re so mean to me every single day of my life,” Ben complains, then turns to Mary. “Is Emily here yet? I want to say hi before we start.”

“She’s inside stretching,” Mary chuckles and Ben bounds through the doors with a wave behind him that Sammy presumes is meant for him. Mary turns to Sammy with a sparkle in her eye. Sammy can tell she’s a grad student just from the way she carries herself as More Mature Than You. “A very energetic best friend you’ve got there.”

“He’s always been that way, you just get used to it,” Sammy tells her, recognizing the affection in her eye as one that comes from enjoying but not entirely understanding Ben’s whole thing. “Um, I’m just gonna wait out here for Ben to be done, but – good luck rehearsing.”

“It’s gonna be awhile, you can come in if you want,” Tim says and then clears his throat, blushing, as he turns to Mary. “I mean, can he come in? I’m sure we’d all be comfortable with it.”

Mary gives Sammy a long, appraising look and Sammy shifts a bit uncomfortably under her stare. “Why not? Might as well get an audience earlier rather than later. As long as he’s not as loud as Ben gets when he’s excited…”

“I’ll be in the corner doing my readings the whole time,” Sammy promises. Mary nods, ushering him inside the door.

Sammy spends the next week of rehearsals doing just as promised. He sits unobtrusively in the corner, does his homework, and watches Ben bound across the stage like an overenthusiastic Labrador retriever to the giggling benefit of all of his cast mates.

The aforementioned cast mates all seem nice and not like they’ll make Ben cry, like certain high school classmates that Sammy could name and still nurses slight grudges against on Ben’s behalf. The girl playing Gwendolyn, a brunette junior named Maggie, is more likely to roll her eyes at Ben’s antics, but the rest of the cast seems to enjoy his energy.

Especially Emily, an extremely pretty dark-haired girl who Ben’s always sitting with when they’re not onstage, Sammy always notices with a slight grin. She shifts closer to him when Ben looks like he’s not paying attention. He’ll bring that up to Ben one of these days. 

Sammy doesn’t really introduce himself to anyone – Ben introduces him with a shout of “That’s Sammy, don’t pay any attention to him! He’s just my bodyguard because I’m very important.”

Emily, along with a girl named Reagan who’s playing Lady Bracknell, Katie who’s playing Miss Prism, and Troy, who’s playing the Reverend, come to his little corner and shake his hand, though. Tim talks to him a couple more times, too. They’re very nice, and Sammy thinks maybe he’ll decide to trust them with Ben one of these days.

For now, Sammy’s perfectly content watching Mary block the show with an iron fist, being quiet and unobtrusive and making sure that there’s never any reason to kick him out. Then he would have to go and eat frozen bananas by himself and mope because of Ben Withdrawal and he can’t have that.

Then, during the second week of Sammy’s tenure as a theatre house mouse, Mary rounds on him at the end of a long, grueling blocking session that lasts past eleven.

“Alright, Stevens,” Mary says as she climbs the stairs to get to his corner, and Sammy shrinks further back, looking down at the black box for help. The good thing about the black box is that there are two levels, so Sammy can stay up top where no one can even see him unless they’re looking. The bad thing is that it means the actors don’t notice him right now, not even Ben, who’s grinning at something that Emily said. “If you’re going to be here every night, I’m giving you a job.”

“I – okay,” Sammy says, a little apprehensive but not wanting to sound ungrateful, because plenty of people would’ve brushed Sammy and Ben off as codependent losers who could spend the occasional evening apart and not die. “I’m not good at anything, though.”

“Oh, shut up,” Mary tells him, rolling her eyes, but her voice isn’t without affection. “I’m not gonna put you in charge of anything, I’m just gonna see if any of the people I got to do tech need an assistant. You any good with painting?”

“I don’t do…art,” Sammy shifts uncomfortably and Mary laughs.

“Alright, you’re a journalism major, right? So you can probably work a sound board, or at the very least, it’d be a good idea for you to learn how,” Mary says with meaning. “I bet the guy I’ve got doing sound could use somebody in the booth to help him. I’m gonna want a bunch of music in the show, so he’ll probably need someone to help with the cues. Thanks, Sammy. You’re a gem. I’ll give him your phone number, he’s gonna start coming to rehearsals to plan out a sound design next week.”

And that’s how Sammy gets a job as the assistant to the sound designer for _The Importance of Being Earnest._

Ben won’t stop laughing when Sammy tells him on their way home.

“The lengths I go to in order to spend time with you,” Sammy grouches as Ben giggles. Their apartment is a fifteen minute walk from the theatre building, and Sammy’s much less worried about mugging when he can keep Ben company on the walk home every single night. “You should be grateful!”

“You just wanna keep an eye on me and make sure I don’t trip and die,” Ben says, and Sammy wishes that were further from the truth. “You need someone to look after or you go insane. Well, I think you’ll be good at sound! I wonder who the sound designer is. I hope it’s not Dan, he was in my tech class and he’s _such_ a jackass…”

Ben rambles on, and Sammy’s glad that he has something to do weekday nights now, anyway. At least he’ll be productive instead of sitting in the corner. It’ll be something to put on a list of extracurricular activities for his resume. And Mary’s pretty cool, all things considered. It means more time with Ben, always a good thing.

Yeah. Sammy can help out doing the sound. That’s something he’s capable of doing.

* * *

 

Sammy regrets that train of thought the exact instant he walks into the sound booth the next night.

He’d actually been a bit pleased, up until that point, about being invited to participate. It meant that Mary trusted him at least a little bit, and also that he got to be involved in something Ben really loved.  There were plenty of upsides.

However, Ben had peeled away when they got to the theatre with a shout in Emily’s direction. Mary, after giving Ben and Emily’s hug hello a smug but pleased look, had pointed out the separate door to the sound booth to Sammy with a pat on his arm and a thank you for joining the team, and told him the sound designer was inside but she had to go to talk to the girl doing costumes, and to call her if there was a problem.

Sammy is fine and cool and chill and relaxed – until the sound designer stands up to greet him.

Tall. Tall with a nice jawline. Tall with a nice jawline and sandy hair that has an almost windswept effect as it frames his face. Tall with a nice jawline and sandy windswept effect hair and nice shoulders. Tall, jawline, hair, shoulders, white smile with fucking dimples and freckles on the bridge of his nose.

Sammy wishes he was anywhere but this tiny enclosed space with the hottest guy he’s ever seen anywhere that’s not on TV. Maybe even the hottest guy _including_ anyone on TV.

“Hi,” the guy’s voice does _not_ ruin the image in the slightest. It’s cheerful and pleasant and very easy to listen to and Sammy thinks about melting into the floor. “Are you Sammy? I’m Jack, I’m the sound designer?”

Sammy unsticks his throat and reminds himself that he’s an adult and also that hot guys are rarely nice, even if this guy is a particularly wholesome kind of hot. “Hey, yeah. Sammy. Sammy Stevens.”

“Jack Wright,” the guy says, and they shake hands. Sammy doesn’t combust on the spot. Progress. Go him. “You look sort of familiar.”

Sammy shrugs, thinking that if he’d seen Jack before he’d remember that. “I’m not in the theatre department or anything, most of the time, so probably not.”

“I’m not either, really, I’m a journalism major,” Jack says, and Sammy frowns, rifling through his memories. Maybe Jack has just gotten really exceptionally hot _recently_ and before then he’d been an average level of hot that Sammy wouldn’t automatically notice.

“Me too, so I guess that’s it. I’ve probably seen you around Nicholson,” Sammy says, and Jack nods. Sammy feels like he should say something else to try to be personable and make a good first impression ( _God, shut up, Stevens, what does it matter_ ), so he adds “How’d you end up as a sound designer if you’re not in the theatre department?”

“I’m a producer with the radio station upstairs,” Jack points up, and Sammy remembers college radio is in the building, too. “My sister’s girlfriend is in the show and told me that Mary was searching for somebody to run the board.”

Sister’s _girlfriend_ , Sammy hates his brain so much right now. Well, at least that means he doesn’t have to worry about Jack hating him for being gay. Always in the back of Sammy’s mind, that, especially with guys who look too good to be true, which Jack definitely does. Jack would probably let him down easy.

There will be no letting down of any sort, Sammy tells himself sternly. He’s got to get a hold on his thoughts and squash the attraction right now because this is a _very_ small booth and Sammy will start to feel claustrophobic soon enough. No need to exacerbate it.

“How’d you end up here?” Jack asks, gesturing toward the two stools in the booth as he steps backward to take a seat in one. Tentative, Sammy follows suit. It’s less intimidating, both of them sitting in front of a rather large soundboard. Gives Sammy something else to look at. “Mary just told me she found me an assistant who was doing homework at rehearsal.”

“My best friend’s playing Algernon,” Sammy says, and leans over the board to the small window separating the sound booth from the black box. He can just make out Ben in one of the corners, jumping up and down. Probably a warm-up, since Emily and Reagan are doing it next to him, but that’s also just Ben’s energy. “I go into anaphylactic shock when he’s more than two feet from me.”

Sammy turns to see Jack biting down on a smile. _Christ,_ he’s cute. His eyes are green, and Sammy hates that especially about him.

“You said that like a joke but that sounds like a rather serious condition, so I’m not sure whether to laugh or not,” Jack rolls his shoulders back as if suppressing the urge. “Which one is he?”

“The small one,” Sammy points to where Ben’s dwarfed between Emily and one of the other girls whose name is escaping Sammy right now. “He permanently attached himself to me when we were twelve and we can’t be unstuck.”

Jack does laugh this time, and it’s just as attractive as Sammy dreaded it would be. “That’s adorable. My sister’s dating Katie – she’s playing Miss Prism.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Sammy says, remembering the girl on Ben’s other side as Katie. She’s wearing a tank top and has rather buff arms. A bit of a lesbian vibe. He should tell Ben that later, Ben likes making friends with other gay people. Sammy’s usually too nervous to strike up a conversation on his own. “That’s cool.”

They sit in silence for a couple seconds before Jack clears his throat and gestures to the board, pulling a notebook out from a green backpack leaning against his stool. “So I figured I was just gonna watch rehearsal tonight, make some notes about essential things that we need to find? See if I get any ideas about more artistic choices I can make? You’re more than welcome to tell me to add anything –”

“I have no idea what I’m doing, just so you know,” Sammy says, and Jack smiles at him, looking through his eyelashes. _Fuck._ “I know the basics of a sound board, but nothing fancy. And I have no creativity. I really shouldn’t have been given this job.”

“I’m sure you’re at least a little wrong about one or two of those things, but you’ll do fine anyway,” Jack tells him. “It’s not a particularly hard gig, and won’t be nearly as time-consuming as the cast’s schedule.”

“Oh, I’ll be at every rehearsal anyway,” Sammy admits and Jack’s eyes are curious on his. “Anaphylactic shock, remember? I can’t let Ben out of my sight or one of us might die.”

Jack breathes out quickly, almost a laugh. “Alright, can’t argue with that. Well, you won’t have to learn any lines, at the very least.”

“Thank God,” Sammy mumbles, and then he hears Mary call the cast to attention in the theatre below. He opens the window slightly to hear better, and both he and Jack stay quiet as they start at the top of the show.

Ben’s ridiculous, Sammy thinks fondly every time he sees Ben onstage, but especially when put in contact with Oscar Wilde. He’s a very good Algernon, preening and prancing about and ridiculously flirting in-character with Tim as Jack, as Tim remains as rigid and buttoned-up as the initial reading of the role might suggest.

“Jack, can you loosen up a little bit?” Mary says below and the Jack up in the booth moves quickly as if he’s almost listening to the command.

Jack grins ruefully when he sees Sammy notice the movement. “Sorry. Force of habit. I should ask her to use Tim’s name for lack of confusion but then again, I should probably just realize instinctually that she’s not talking to me.”

“You’re both Jack W – Worthing and Wright,” Sammy says, and feels a bit stupid a second later, but the way Jack grins calms that worry.

“I feel like Wilde’s Jack W is a bit more proper than I am,” Jack says, blasé like he hasn’t given it a great deal of thought. Sammy, highly unfortunately for both of them, starts laughing nervously.  

“Jack Worthing isn’t _proper,_ ” Sammy can’t stop himself from giving his own scathing take on Oscar Wilde, and Jesus Christ, could he be any gayer? “Jack Worthing pretends to be regal and aristocratic and better than Algernon, but he shouldn’t be played like the straight man. He’s just as ridiculous and flamboyant, he’s just pretending not to be because he’s more repressed.”

Jack, thank God, isn’t staring at Sammy like he’s grown an extra head. Instead, he’s grinning bright and clear and almost _delighted,_ which is not how people who aren’t Ben look when Sammy starts going off on a tangent.

“I hope you have some other hot takes on Oscar Wilde, because that one’s excellent,” Jack tells him and Sammy thinks he’s probably blushing. “You should share your thoughts with Tim, because he’s definitely trying to play a straight dude. Ben’s committing to the gay subtext, but Tim doesn’t seem to quite grasp that yet.”

“Ben will just have to flirt with him for the next six weeks and wear him down,” Sammy says without thinking too hard about the implications, and Jack giggles. God, that’s a nice sound. Sammy’s brain should stop thinking.

“He seems like a charmer,” Jack says, mild and amused, and Sammy immediately sees a future in which Ben manages to charm this Jack thoroughly, and he doesn’t care for the sour taste that leaves in his mouth.

“Well, he’s 5’4”, so you win and you lose some,” Sammy says with more fervor than strictly necessary, and Jack puts a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.

“Not your type?” Jack’s voice remains level, not like he’s invested or anything, but curious. Sammy feels himself heat up, not knowing exactly what the implications are, wishing he could read Jack’s mind.

He wants to say no, of course Ben’s not his type, because Ben is _absolutely_ _not,_ but he doesn’t want Jack to think that he doesn’t like guys at all – or does he? Should he try to stay in the closet? He has to spend a lot of time with Jack coming up, it might be easier if Jack thinks he’s straight. Then again, Jack has a gay sister, he’d probably be okay with it, but then there’s Sammy’s really unfortunate attraction, but hopefully that will go away by tomorrow, or more realistically next week or possibly never – it’s all too complicated, and Sammy’s barely comfortable sharing with people as it is, and never really has to except when they’re out with Ben’s friends or on the few occasions a guy wants to date him, and Sammy, and Sammy –

“Not short guys,” Sammy’s mouth works faster than his brain, and he can’t look at Jack but he thinks he can feel the energy of a smile emanating from Jack’s general direction.

Whatever. Jack probably knew already anyway – straight guys don’t have hot takes on Oscar Wilde.

Thankfully, there’s a rehearsal break five minutes later, and Sammy thinks he can go have a panic attack in peace in the bathroom. Before he can make a not so graceful exit from Jack’s presence, there’s a knock on the sound booth door and Ben bounds in without sparing another second, with far too much energy for a guy who’s been onstage for the past hour and a half.

“Hey, how’s the designing and all?” Ben throws his arms around Sammy’s neck and hugs him from behind. Sammy blushes as he sees Jack spring backward a bit in surprise. “Hi, I’m Ben, human suction cup. You must be Jack! Katie was telling me about you before rehearsal. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jack says, bemusedly taking the hand that Ben’s sticking out.

“Take care of Sammy, okay? He’s like a little turtle, he’s nervous around new people.”

“Ben! Shut _up_!” Sammy hisses, moving his arms from out of Ben’s octopus grip to hit at him. His eyes unwittingly go to Jack, whose smile grows softer around the edges. God. This isn’t improving Sammy’s mental state.

“I think Sammy and I are gonna do just fine,” Jack turns to him with that deeply unfortunate, lovely smile of his.

Sammy can feel initial attraction twist in his stomach into a genuine, butterfly-filled, light-headed, terrifying crush.

* * *

 

“So Mary was talking about maybe giving the design more of a modern bend while keeping the language the same – I was thinking maybe this effect for scene transitions?”

Jack has his laptop up, and he plays a zooming sound not unlike a car going by on a highway.

“What’s the connection, though?” Sammy asks, drawing one of his knees up to his chest to rest his chin on. They’re an hour into tonight’s rehearsal, and they’ve shut the window to the cast’s antics so Jack can play him what he’s found so far and get a second opinion. Sammy, in a somewhat surprising twist, has one or two of those. “Is it representing traveling from the city to the country? Maybe that should start Act Two?”

“That’s cool, I like that,” Jack points his pen in Sammy’s direction as he makes a scribbled note in his spiral-lined notebook. “I want something consistent, but that could be set apart since it’s not quite a scene transition with intermission and all.”

Sammy yawns inadvertently as he nods along, and Jack cocks his head, regarding Sammy while the laptop sits between them.  He’s wearing glasses that he hadn’t had on the night they’d met – hipster-type with the square top and rounded underneath. They make him look smart.

Not that Jack didn’t already look smart. Smart and funny and cute. Full package. Ha, package.

Jesus, Sammy needs to _stop._ It’s been three days. Jack isn’t getting any less hot, so Sammy needs to start being less extra about it.

Oscar Wilde going on beneath them is not helping matters. It’s all too gay to be the backdrop to whatever’s going on up in the sound booth.

Nothing. Nothing is going on other than discussing sound.

“How do you take your coffee?” Jack asks, and Sammy frowns at what he perceives as a complete non-sequitur.

“Uh, I don’t. Coffee makes Ben’s anxiety worse and I gave it up in solidarity,” Sammy says. “I usually get earl grey tea.”

“How do you take your tea, then?” Jack asks, and the smile playing on his lips is weirdly kind and gentle.

“With a lot of milk and not any sugar,” Sammy answers honestly, and then squints suspiciously, searching for a motive. “Uh…why?”

“Because I stop at Starbucks on my way here and I wanted to bring something for you,” Jack says. Sammy can feel his stomach swoop, even though it really shouldn’t be doing that. “You’re really great for helping me out with this stuff, I feel like I should repay you in some way.”

“I really don’t need anything,” Sammy says, trying to divert Jack’s attention from whatever’s going on in Sammy’s head right now. He doesn’t know if Jack’s a mind-reader. “I’d be here anyway waiting on Ben, just without anyone to talk to. You’re the one doing me a favor, really.”

“Whatever,” Jack rolls his eyes, clearly not buying it. “You’re still the one actually having to do work you didn’t sign up for.”

“It’s more interesting than my homework,” Sammy assures him, and for some reason his heart starts to beat faster.

“Which classes are you taking?” Jack asks, sounding like he’s genuinely curious about the answer. “It’s weird that we’re both in the journalism school but don’t have anything together. You’re a junior, right?”

“I’m a little behind,” Sammy says, trying not to feel flustered or embarrassed about it. “I had kind of a rough freshman year, so I take some credits online during the summer.”

“Understandable,” Jack doesn’t add any questions which Sammy’s grateful for. It’s not even as if it’s a long or bad story, Sammy would just rather not talk about his many shortcomings. “What do you want to do when you graduate? You strike me as like, a good replacement for Morning Joe.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Sammy can’t help but say even though he’s not sure, and Jack puts a hand over his mouth as he laughs, nodding. Thank God for that, at least. “Ben and I want to host a radio show together. We were gonna apply at the college station this year, but then Ben got cast in this show, and I’d rather wait so we can do it together.”

“You guys are literally so sweet,” Jack doesn’t seem like he’s making fun, which is how the majority of people sound when they talk about Sammy and Ben, so Sammy appreciates the sentiment. “That’s what I want to do, too. Radio. I like the audio format a lot – which is, obviously, why I’m here in the theatre department where I clearly don’t belong.”

“You could belong here,” Sammy finds himself saying. “You could be a very charming, likable leading man. A Jack W, if you will.”

“What, you want Ben to flirt with me all night?” Jack’s eyes travel down the stage, where Ben’s tugging Tim along the perimeter of the black box, presumably shouting his lines at top volume if the wince on Mary’s face is anything to go by.

Sammy’s focusing on that so he doesn’t have to feel anything about Jack’s question, though he quickly says “Ben isn’t allowed to flirt with my friends.”

Sammy’s surprised to see Jack blush this time, a light pink color, as he busies himself with his laptop and doesn’t quite look at Sammy.

It gives Sammy a weird, proud feeling he’s not analyzing. He’s also not analyzing how he’s never really referred to anyone who’s not Ben as his friend.

The next rehearsal, Jack wordlessly hands Sammy an earl grey tea when he joins him in the sound booth. Sammy sips tentatively, trying not to outwardly swoon. There’s a little too much milk. Then again, Sammy had made a point to say he liked a lot of milk.

Jack had gone a bit overboard, but Sammy….Sammy really didn’t mind. Maybe he’ll start taking even more milk in his tea from now on. It doesn’t taste bad at all.

* * *

 

It’s been a week of feeling less like he’s melting into goop on the floor when he and Jack sit together in the enclosed sound booth, and more like he has an ordinary crush on his ordinary friend who he made in an ordinary way.

Jack continues to bring Sammy tea, and Sammy continues to enjoy it regardless of the level of milk, which is always plenty.

Sammy thinks he’s got it all under control until he and Jack walk out of the booth together at the end of the night, laughing about a joke Jack had made about Cecily’s clear desire to be in lesbians with Gwendolyn, and the cast comes out of the theatre at the exact same time.

Katie, Jack’s sister’s girlfriend, makes a beeline for the two of them with a determined glint in her eye that makes Sammy unaccountably nervous.

“Lily went for drinks, so we have to pick her up on the way home,” Katie says, her voice a soft Southern accent that’s honestly quite fitting for Miss Prism despite the quintessential Britishness of the play. “She’s completely sloshed, based on how many explanation points are in her texts.”

“More than one at a time,” Jack stage-whispers to Sammy with a bright smile, like he’s a part of the inside joke as he and Katie both laugh. “Alright, did she text you an address?”

“Hi, Jack,” Ben sidles up to their group, tugging Emily along with him, who gives them all a little wave. “Have you met Emily yet? She’s playing Cecily and she’s _great_. Did you see her climb across the boxes today? It was _so funny_.”

“I don’t think we’ve officially met,” Jack shakes her hand. “Jack Wright. I sit in the tiny box within the tiny box that is the theatre and make noises on my laptop to amuse Sammy.”

Ben gives Sammy an absolutely delighted look, and Sammy takes an extended drink from the dregs of his long cold tea.

“Emily Potter,” Emily replies cheerfully. “And Ben’s really the talented one here. We have a lot of fun together, don’t we, Benny?”

“A lot!” Ben’s attention immediately shifts back to Emily, preening at the compliment. Sammy almost expects him to take a hold of her hand, but he doesn’t. They remain standing suspiciously close together, though. “Did you guys have fun in the tiny box?”

“Always,” Sammy feels braver than usual as he tells the truth. Mostly, he wants to see how Jack will react. Jack shifts from one foot to another, and he gives Sammy a pleased look. Sammy’s pretty sure his heart _flutters._ Jesus.

“Mary’s got some specific vision for the music, but we’re picking out some stuff,” Jack says. His heart is probably not fluttering. “It’s mostly just fun to watch rehearsals. You guys seem like you’re having a blast.”

“You know it!” Ben grins. “My mom always said I was made to be onstage and the center of attention. She’s probably right, unfortunately…”

“Mom texted me, by the way,” Sammy remembers, recalling Betty’s messages earlier when Ben had been onstage and Sammy couldn’t immediately call out to him. “We’ve gotta call Saturday instead of Sunday because of the quilting show this weekend.”

“Right,” Ben nods and though Sammy doesn’t notice what’s amiss, he does notice Katie and Jack’s eyebrows both shoot up in confusion.

“Are you guys….brothers?” Katie asks, a little hesitant as she gives them each a bewildered look. Jack’s expression matches hers, but not as extreme. He just looks a bit puzzled.

“Basically,” Sammy shrug, understanding that he and Ben’s relationship is not one that’s easily fathomed out.

Ben adds, oblivious to that fact, “Not by blood! Just in our hearts!”

“I sort of lived at Ben’s house for most of high school,” Sammy feels the need to justify when the looks don’t get any less confounded. Emily’s at least is pretty mild, even though she’s got her head cocked, regarding them curiously with a frown. “I don’t really talk to my parents anymore, so…Betty’s Mom to me now.”

“I think that’s very sweet,” Emily says, the frown not quite disappearing but turning more sympathetic. She even reaches over and pats Sammy’s elbow.

“Sorry, I just –” Katie squints. “I sort of thought you two were a couple?”

Ben starts making retching noises as Sammy laughs, but he can’t help but notice that Jack’s shoulders relax while Ben makes it clear just how _not a couple_ they are.

Sammy doesn’t want to read into anything. He doesn’t. He’s the master of reading into the smallest of actions, but he doesn’t want to be.

Still, he thinks it’s not out of the realm of possibility that Jack maybe thought they were a couple, too. And also could have been maybe, possibly, even _relieved_ to find out that they weren’t.

Relieved might be a stretch. Jack wasn’t unhappy with the information; Sammy corrects himself to something that’s probably closer to the truth. Jack wasn’t unhappy at all.

* * *

 

It’s official.

Two weeks in, and Sammy’s upping his crush on Jack from _bearable_ to _debilitating._

It’s a Sunday. There are no rehearsals on Sundays. That means no Jack on Sundays.

Sammy’s _sad_. Moping. One might, if they were to look inside his the deepest recesses of his brain, even say _pining._

Sammy wouldn’t say it because Sammy is definitely not looking in the deepest recesses of his brain. He doesn’t need to know what’s back there. He’s better off keeping the lid on that nice and tight.

Still, he knows the symptoms well. He experiences them basically every time Ben leaves the room.

Sammy decides that it’s time and he may as well bite the bullet and go to Ben for help. It’s a miracle that Ben hasn’t initiated any Jack-related pestering up to this point, quite honestly.

Sammy waits until after he’s brushed his teeth to wander from the bathroom to the bedroom, where the door’s open. Ben’s already in his pajamas, though he has a notebook propped open in his lap from where he’s sitting in bed, propped up against one of the walls.

Sammy groans pitifully in the doorway to let Ben know what kind of conversation this is going to be, and flops down onto Ben’s bed with him.  He lands on his face, which he turns into Ben’s big King Falls High blanket and away from Ben himself, even as Ben makes a sympathetic noise and slides down on the bed to lie next to him.

Ben pats Sammy’s shoulder a couple times, and brushes Sammy’s too-long hair away from his eyes. Sammy squirms away to keep up pretenses, but Ben pulls him closer until they’re lying shoulder to shoulder on their backs, as is the usual formation for Secret Sharing Sessions.

“So are you finally gonna talk to me about Jack?” Ben’s voice is all too knowing but Sammy doesn’t have the energy to glare at him.

“Only if you deserve to hear it,” Sammy grumbles and Ben elbows him too sharply in the stomach.

“Tell me! Tell me or I’ll cry.”

Ben will, in fact, cry. Sammy knows perfectly well from almost nine years of experience of Ben crying on cue when Sammy won’t do something Ben wants him to. It’s truly an awful but effective tactic Ben can wield against Sammy at any point in time.  

“I have a big gay crush on him and it’s horrible,” Sammy tells him and Ben makes an _aww_ noise. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“It can’t be that bad! I mean…..have you _seen_ Jack?”

“Obviously. That’s sort of the problem here.”

“He’s also really nice, though,” Ben says like Sammy needs reminding. “Don’t think I’ve noticed all those Starbucks cups. He’s killing a rainforest to bring you drinks. And Starbucks ain’t cheap.”

“Like you said, he’s nice,” Sammy tries to justify, maybe or maybe not weakly. He doesn’t know. He can’t be sure. “I don’t even know if he likes guys.”

“He’s too…. _clean_ not like guys,” Ben says decidedly and Sammy snorts. “No, seriously! He’s not like, super fashionable or anything, but his clothes are neatly pressed and color-coordinated. He remembers to shave every day. You can tell he washes his hands regularly.”

“This is your proof he’s gay?” Sammy nudges Ben’s shoulder with his own. “Your gaydar is grasping at straws.”

“Yours doesn’t exist,” Ben informs him, and Sammy scowls because it’s true. “Trust me, okay? He smiles too much when you talk _not_ to be gay and like you a whole lot.”

“Nobody likes me a whole lot,” Sammy mumbles, and ducks his face down to press into Ben’s shoulder. Ben’s opposite hand comes up to pat the back of his head. “At least not for very long.”

“Shut up. Jack’s different. I can tell. I know these things.”

“I don’t even know if I want Jack to like me back,” Sammy says after a moment’s hesitation, because he doesn’t think Ben will understand that particular urge.

He definitely doesn’t. Ben nearly sits up as he stares down at Sammy in befuddlement. “What? C’mon, seriously?”

“I’m just saying,” Sammy pushes Ben back down on the bed with the hand that’s closest. “He’s – he’s _too_ perfect. I’d rather it be an unrequited crush.”

“What, you think he’s…less perfect underneath the veneer or something? ‘Cause that’s dumb, everyone is less perfect than they seem. High standards are a good thing but you really take that to some new extremes –”

“I’m not saying that,” Sammy interrupts, searching for the right words. “I’m saying….that I _like_ admiring from afar. I don’t need anything else. I’d probably burst into flames on the spot if he liked me back even a little.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Ben rolls his eyes, but there’s clear Ben-level fondness in them. “You’re lonely without him this weekend, aren’t you? Are you replacing me with him? Is Ben Withdrawal becoming Jack Withdrawal?”

“….Shut up. The two can coexist. They’re very different feelings even if they sound similar!”

Ben giggles, fitting his head into the crook of Sammy’s neck. “I’m teasing. I think it’s good you have a crush. A step in the right direction to like, you actually having a boyfriend.”

“Don’t say that,” Sammy’s stomach very nearly turns. “I’m pining, Ben. Pining from afar like in a Jane Austen novel. I require nothing else, especially not a _boyfriend_.”

“You’re so dumb and stupid and dumb,” Ben snorts. “Now get up, I need to go brush my teeth. Are you going to move to your own bed at any point, or are you staying there?”

“Staying,” Sammy closes his eyes. Sammy does in fact have a bed of his own in the one-bedroom apartment they share, and it’s within Sammy’s line of sight, but there are nights he doesn’t feel like making the effort to move. They’d picked a one-bedroom mostly to save money, but also because Sammy and Ben had shared a bedroom through most of high school. Betty and Ben Arnold had lived in a very small house with no extra space, and yet still took Sammy in when he needed them. So Sammy and Ben had mostly shared a room from age sixteen on, and saw no reason to stop now.

The other boys at school called them weird – among worse insults – but that’s just how Sammy and Ben do things. They’ve always been an extra level of best friends.

Sammy’s never found it weird to fall asleep with Ben’s elbows digging into his stomach, no matter what other people might say about the boundaries of platonic friendship. Besides, if Sammy’s grumbling sleepily at Ben about the sharpness of his extremities, he can’t overthink what it means that Jack brings him early grey with lots of milk.

Probably nothing.


	2. Chapter Two

“Okay, how about this fiddle music to start?”

Sammy has his own laptop open tonight as he and Jack scroll through the endless files of foley that the theatre department has available for its students. They’ve gone through about six of the files labeled ‘fiddle’ and have ten more to go.

“I feel like Mary would put the kibosh on this,” Jack says, pulling up the email Mary had sent him about specifications on his own laptop. “With her more modern vision and all – but it might be cool if we started the show with a more classic vibe before the music choices become decidedly more modern.”

“Doesn’t she want something Katy Perry for when Jack and Algernon are throwing muffins?” Sammy can’t help but laugh. “I think that should absolutely be California Girls, regardless of thematic resonance.”

“California Girls?” Jack lightly kicks Sammy’s leg with his own. “C’mon, we can do better than that. Katy Perry can do better than that!”

There’s half a second of silence before Jack locks one of his legs with Sammy’s and starts to sing, loud and little off-pitch, “ _You make me feel like I’m livin’ a teenage dream…”_

Jack’s doing it to be funny, to get Sammy to laugh, and Sammy certainly laughs.  Laughs through a minor existential crisis and desire to transcend this plane of existence entirely because Jack is _so cute._

“Ben would love you forever if you suggested that he get to sing that,” Sammy tells him as he attempts to recover from Jack bombarding his central nervous system. “Ben loves musicals. Oh my God, can we put a Grease song in here? Ben _loves_ Grease. He was Danny Zuko in high school.”

“He was Danny Zuko in that he _played_ Danny Zuko in a high school production, or _was_ Danny Zuko in that he was the leader of a too cool for school motorcycle gang? That’s the plot of Grease, right?”

Sammy smiles slightly, imagining how much Ben would scream if anyone put him on the back of a motorcycle. “Uh, the former. Ben and I only talked to each other in high school, so we weren’t invited to any 50s-inspired motorcycle gangs.”

Jack’s smile gets impossibly softer, and Sammy notices the way his eyes crinkle. “Well, my best friend is _still_ my sister. I played football in high school so that’s where most of my social life was, but the team all stopped speaking to me in my senior year.”

“What?” Sammy asks, a little confused, even though the image of Jack playing football in the back of his mind is _really_ nice. “Why?”

“Because I had a boyfriend, and seventeen year old football players don’t really know how to handle that.”

Jack’s voice is mild, but his frown is pronounced, and Sammy is far too familiar with the hurt lurking somewhere behind his expression. Jack looks at his laptop and not directly at Sammy.

Sammy –

Sammy shifts closer, puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder for three whole seconds and says “Well, the football team at my school _never_ talked to me unless it was to yell insults in the halls, so…”

Jack turns to him, his smile returning even if he doesn’t laugh, and Sammy doesn’t laugh either because it isn’t funny, not by any means, even if Sammy would usually laugh to disguise the hurt that was still lurking there.

“Well, I’m glad you had Ben,” Jack says, sounding like he means it. “And that I had Lily. Lucked out at least a little, right?”

“Right,” Sammy agrees, and then the topic is quickly changed back to the safer, healthier subject of the intricacies of fiddle music versus Katy Perry’s discography.

It isn’t until Jack goes downstairs to ask Mary something and leaves Sammy alone in the booth for two minutes that it hits Sammy.

Jack had a boyfriend in high school.

That means Jack is definitely not straight, that he would be at least somewhat interested in having another boyfriend, and there’s a not-insignificant potential that he might want a boyfriend today and that could, possibly, maybe include some kind of interest in Sammy in a vaguely romantic way.

Sammy gives the seemingly innocuous Starbucks cup filled with tea and too much milk sitting next to the soundboard a long, uncertain look.

“It still doesn’t have to mean anything,” Sammy mumbles, out loud, just to make sure that his brain internalizes that message.

That doesn’t stop him from texting Ben with shaking hands, _oh my god jack had a boyfriend at one point_ followed by ten crying emojis.

 _Why are we crying??????_ Ben takes three seconds to text back. _That’s ammmmaaaaazing you should ask him out for sure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Sammy doesn’t text back a long string of disjointed texts about how Jack potentially wanting to date him as a real possibility instead of a straight boy crush pipe dream is actually somehow _worse,_ but that’s only because Jack comes back into the booth with a bright smile and three more Katy Perry song suggestions from Mary.

Sammy purposefully thinks only about Katy Perry for the rest of the night.

* * *

 

Jack’s face lights up in a laugh as soon as Sammy closes the door between the sound booth and the rest of the world. Jack’s laugh, much like the rest of him, is unfairly attractive. Which is particularly unfair today since Sammy’s using one of Ben’s beanies to bunch up almost all of his hair.

“Why is your hair hiding?”

“Stop laughing,” Sammy tugs the beanie off as he sits down, his hair suddenly less itchy but much more static-filled. He brushes it back with one of his hands, and tugs on the ponytail holder to tighten his bun. “It’s Ben’s fault.”

“That’s his hat, right?” Jack asks, giving the discarded hat in question a questioning look. Sammy purposefully throws it on the floor instead of putting in his bag, which makes Jack laugh harder.

“In ethics today he decided my hair was too atrocious to look at for another second,” Sammy explains, “and then he shoved the hat on and refused to let me take it off.”

“That just shows you’re a total pushover,” Jack, as if to make his point, pushes Sammy’s shoulder lightly. It makes Sammy feel mostly like he’s been lit on fire. “He’s too short, so he couldn’t keep it up there if he tried.”

“Yeah, well, it was only an hour ago, and some things aren’t with fighting him on,” Sammy says, curling some of the loose strands of hair behind his ears. “He has more energy on his worst day than I’ve ever had collectively in my entire life, plus he was threatening to cut it in my sleep. I’m trying to dissuade that possible reality.”

“Why does he think it’s so bad?” Jack asks, and Sammy feels like Jack’s giving him a once-over even though his eyes are really only flickering to the top of Sammy’s head. “It’s pretty long, but – it’s not some kind of crime against nature. Maybe a little messy for Ben’s gelled-back standards –”

“ _Thank_ you,” Sammy says, feeling vindictively correct. He’ll inform Ben of that opinion later. “He uses more hair gel than John Travolta in Grease.”

“Well, Travolta is Ben’s icon, it’s only natural,” Jack says, and Sammy’s pleased that he’s remembered Ben’s Grease affiliation.

“My hair is an ungodly nest in Ben’s opinion,” Sammy resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll use extra shampoo tonight and maybe he’ll let it go.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it,” Jack assures him, and his eyes flicker toward the sound board where – oh, Jack brought him earl grey again.

“Thanks,” Sammy says, both for the reassurance and the tea, and he toasts the cup in Jack’s direction as he takes a sip. “It is kind of horrible to look when it’s down, but that’s why it’s never down. I know how to spare people’s eyes from this monster.”

Sammy gestures to the top of his head in a round motion, laughing even though he wishes his hair looked a bit more like Jack’s, which had a _good_ messy look instead of just plain untidiness like Sammy’s.

“Let me see,” Jack says, gesturing to Sammy’s hair as well and Sammy doesn’t understand for half a second.

“See my hair? You’ll just join Ben’s side and make me put the beanie back on.”

“I doubt that,” Jack says, and then – then Jack leans toward him.

Sammy doesn’t quite process what Jack’s doing – he’s thinking, mind-numbingly and terrifyingly, that maybe Jack is about to kiss him – but then Jack’s hand goes to the top of Sammy’s head, and he pulls the ponytail holder out of Sammy’s bun, gentle and easy.

Sammy’s face heats up as his hair falls, and he feels like a much worse version of Rapunzel, even though his hair only goes down to his shoulders. A few stray thoughts race through his head about how maybe he really should let Ben cut it off, this is way too long, Jack definitely thinks it looks dumb–

Jack leans back in his chair, the look on his face very nearly tender. How he can have those wide eyes and soft smile when he’s looking at Sammy’s hair of all things is a fucking mystery, but Sammy’s heart is practically beating out of his chest.

“You look good,” Jack says quietly, and Sammy might be imagining it, but his voice sounds a little hoarser than it did before.  “It’s curlier than I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m usually standing next to Ben and nothing looks curly compared to his hair,” Sammy’s voice comes out equally as shaky as Jack’s if not more so, even though his words are light. “Um – thanks, though. Maybe I’ll convince him to keep the scissors away from me for another day. I look worse with short hair, so –”

“I don’t believe that,” Jack says, then adds hurriedly as if he wants to reassure Sammy, “but I think you look best just like this.”

Sammy sees Jack’s hand reach out, but he doesn’t comprehend what’s happening until Jack brushes a piece of Sammy’s hair out of his eye. His hand lingers there long enough for Sammy to think he’s going to curl it behind his ear, and he almost does before he lets go. The hair falls over Sammy’s ear instead, swaying forward.

Jack laughs, quiet, and Sammy can see him blush as he looks down at the ground, but it’s only for a moment. When he looks back up at Sammy, it’s with an apologetic smile.

Sammy thinks he’s probably going to lose the will to live if Jack keeps looking at him, like he’s – like he’s something worth looking at. 

* * *

 

“And _then_ – and then he practically curled my hair behind my ear! Like, like, I don’t know, he’s some kind of Victorian – something!”

“ _And then what happened_?”  The melted chocolate around Ben’s mouth completes the image, with his wide eyes and gaping expression, completely matching his demand for more information.

It’s almost midnight on Wednesday and they’re splitting a gigantic bowl of bananas, not frozen this time, covered in the chocolate Ben melted an hour ago. It’s a weird sort of ritual, but the only space Sammy’s ever going to be able to articulate to Ben what happened last night at rehearsal.

“Then we talked about the fucking aestheticism movement in Britain and how best to imitate the grander patterns of the genre through sound! And neither of us mentioned it again except when I put your beanie back on and Jack told me he hoped I wouldn’t keep wearing it!”

Sammy’s voice may or may not be getting higher with panic, but the longer he thinks about it the worse it’s going to be. Jack hadn’t been at rehearsal tonight, he’d had a last-minute family thing crop up that Sammy thinks has something to do with his sister. Jack had texted him saying not to worry and he’d be back the next night.

Sammy, since he’s Sammy, is worrying anyway.

“He likes you so much, oh my God,” Ben’s meltingly sweet voice doesn’t match the way he viciously stabs a banana with his fork. Ben would eat with his hands if Sammy let him, so Sammy lets him be violent with the kitchenware as a compromise.

 “He could just be…you know, nice and supportive and thinks my hair looks okay!”

“Sammy, I only say this because I love you – but he’d _have_ to want to fuck you to think your hair looks good,” Ben says point-blank, almost smirking. Sammy reddens as he kicks Ben’s shin harder than necessary.

Ben massages his leg with a hurt look on his face, and Sammy stabs a banana of his own to show how displeased he is with Ben’s unnecessary commentary.

“I’m just _saying_ , it’s not really deniable that he likes you after all of that.”

“Of course it’s deniable. I’m denying it, aren’t I?”

Ben rolls his eyes, and Sammy hunches back his shoulders in preparation for whatever Ben’s about to say next, which he knows he won’t like. “Dude, I know how committed you are to your Brideshead Revisited eternal pining aesthetic, but like – you aren’t the one in the Oscar Wilde play, yeah? Ask the guy out! The world doesn’t just have to have homoerotic undertones! It can be explicit!”

“This is real life, not a play,” Sammy mutters under his breath, annoyed at how well Ben has him pinned down here.

“Exactly! It’s real, twenty-first century life where you can have a boyfriend and it won’t kill you.”

“Jack’s too nice to be my….my _boyfriend,”_ Sammy says, the words tasting like lead in his mouth even though his chest feels pleasant at the words _Jack_ and _my boyfriend_ together like that.

Ben sighs in that way he does when he pretends Sammy’s a lost kitten, and Sammy almost kicks him again but decides he has to save his kick for when Ben says something he likes even less.

“You deserve to date someone nice,” Ben says, enunciating his words too clearly. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He’d prove himself to be not so nice, and the magic would be ruined forever,” Sammy looks at the fridge behind Ben instead of making eye contact. He really should wipe that down, there’s chocolate on the door handle, probably Ben’s doing.

“Magic?” Ben raises an eyebrow, far, far too smug and Sammy scowls.

“Yes! Magic! Everything in the sound booth with just the two of us feels…. _dreamy._ If it existed somewhere else, it would be….I don’t know, less. I don’t want other people and circumstances and life ruining it.”

Ben’s expression slides from general glee into puppy-dog levels of sadness, and his voice is suddenly ten degrees less smug and a million degrees more downcast and apprehensive when he says, quieter than his voice has been in the last year, “….Do you think Jack wouldn’t like me?”

Sammy _hates_ when Ben’s big brown eyes get watery and grow three sizes. 

“That’s not it,” Sammy corrects, stomach churning as he realizes what the implications of him expressing doubts of Jack fitting into his life would mean in relation to Ben. “Jack would like you. Jack already likes you. He thinks you’re really funny! I just – you know how hard it is to get me to trust someone, Ben, and to – to feel safe with them. It’s like we’re in our own little ecosystem right now and it feels too fragile. I’m worried _I’ll_ fuck this up – I’m not worried about Jack not liking you. Okay?”

“You’re sure it’s just your dumb and unfounded insecurities and not me being a human suction cup?” Ben’s voice has a little more of his usual teasing lilt in it, but still sounds a little insecure as his doe eyes blink up mournfully.

So Sammy has no choice but to stick his bare hand in the bowl of chocolate and smear some on Ben’s face. He just has to do it.

Ben shouts, half in disgust and half in delight, as he springs backwards and grapples with Sammy to shove his hands away.  

“You’re the worst!” Ben says, but he’s giggling, and also already swiping his pointer finger through the chocolate on his face and licking it. He’s so gross, and Sammy wouldn’t trade him for anything.

Sammy doesn’t lick anything, only reaches for the napkins, because he’s an adult. At least he’s managed to make the big puppy eyes go away.

“Alright, if the problem isn’t me, are we in agreement that you’re going to ask him out?” Ben asks, straight back to the business at hand with intent hazel eyes clearly prodding at Sammy. He should probably just be grateful Ben’s chocolatey hands aren’t literally prodding him right now.

Sammy makes a miserable noise in the back of his throat to show Ben how much he doesn’t want to, and Ben groans back at him.

“A handsome man wants to have sex with you, and this is how you react,” Ben says with a straight face even though Ben just knowing that sex is a thing that Sammy could possibly have makes him cringe away.

“We don’t know that! That’s unconfirmed!” Sammy swallows, the back of his throat suddenly burning, then adds, “Besides, what if _I_ don’t want to have sex with _him_?”

Ben gives him a disbelieving look.

“Okay, fine, I want to! I just – you’re right, I’d rather be in an Oscar Wilde play! I want to be locked in an unrequited romance! I’d rather be that bastard Heathcliff roaming the moors for all time, then like – at the New Year’s Party in When Harry Met Sally. I know how to be sad and messy, I don’t know to –”

Sammy can’t finish. He stabs another banana and doesn’t look at Ben.

He still doesn’t look at Ben, even when Ben leans in and locks their ankles together.

“Listen, Sammy. I know you’re literally a cowboy hat away from moving out to Wyoming to find your own personal Heath Ledger –”

“Gyllenhaal’s cuter,” Sammy mumbles as a deflection.

“Yeah, but you want a cowboy to top you, so –”

“I’m gonna kill you in real life.”

“ – but maybe you could try being the plucky protagonist in a romcom, okay? Not When Harry Met Sally, because that’s too straight and boring, but like –”

“I love when Harry Met Sally,” Sammy justifies, a continual deflection because there’s nothing that gets Ben riled up like an argument about which romcoms are the most superior of the genre.

Unfortunately, Ben doesn’t take the bait, and continues in that too-soft voice of his “You need to realize that you are the protagonist in the romcom of life, my friend.”

“I hate you.”

“And someday, when you ask a guy out –”

“Unlikely –”

 – or when a guy asks you out –”

“ _More_ unlikely –”

 “So…..you don’t think Jack will ask you out?”

Sammy doesn’t know how to answer that question, and doesn’t know how to deflect it either. He tries to imagine sitting with Jack in the sound booth tomorrow, and having Jack say _do you want to go on a date with me_ but his brain short-circuits before he can get to the part where he would react to that.

Instead, Sammy licks a fleck of chocolate off of his hand and stares into the middle distance.

“I have no idea,” Sammy admits, and Ben pats his knee a couple of times.

“Maybe you should get to know him better – I mean, you’re up there together every night, you could ask him a personal question or two, make the whole _you like him_ thing less scary,” Ben’s far too enthusiastic, and far too kind for putting up with all of Sammy’s various neuroses.

“Ask him things,” Sammy repeats, and even though the idea makes him cringe, it’s also not one of the worst things Ben’s ever suggested. “I can do that.”

Sammy finally feels like it’s going to be okay to look at Ben again, and when he does, Ben’s rolling his eyes fond and long-suffering.

“I know, I’m a genius,” Ben kicks Sammy’s leg with a cheerful, but still very knowing smile, like he can read Sammy’s mind. He probably can. They’ve probably Vulcan mind-melded at this point in their lives, honestly. “Do you think I need to wash my hands before bed?”

 Sammy gives him a disgusted look and Ben grins winningly back at him, waving his chocolate-covered hands in Sammy’s face until Sammy bites the bullet and drags Ben to the sink by his shirt collar and inspects his hands when Ben thinks he’s gotten everything (he hasn’t, he never does).

 _Talk to him,_ Sammy thinks to himself. _Talk to him. I can do that. I can talk. I’m good at talking and I like talking and I definitely like talking to Jack._

It sounds so easy in his head.

* * *

 

Jack’s in the middle of making a clever remark about the versatility of ABBA’s greatest hits, when Sammy’s mouth decides without his brain’s input that now is the perfect time to ask –

“So you….you had a boyfriend in high school?”

Jack cuts off, but he doesn’t immediately shut down like Sammy would have if someone asked him that question out of nowhere. Jack just smiles, clearly a little confused about the non-sequitur but Sammy thinks his eyes soften just enough for Sammy to not feel mortified about blurting that out.

“Sorry,” Sammy mutters, looking at his shoes. Jack had closed the window looking onto the stage ten minutes ago, and Sammy had been working up the nerve to interrupt the various commentaries Jack was making along with the creation of the show’s track list. “That’s a weird way to start a conversation, I just –”

“No, it’s cool,” Jack says. His smile turns almost shaky, and so does his laugh. “I mean, I was talking about ABBA anyway, so it only makes sense that we’d go here next.”

Jack grins wryly and Sammy can’t help but mirror his look.

“So, yeah, um, I did have a boyfriend, my senior year,” Jack runs a hand through his hair, and seems tenser than he did a moment ago so at least he’s not completely unfazed by the question. “His name was Aaron, and he was….a lot more _out_ than I was, at the time. I would’ve probably stayed in the closet ‘til I graduated if he didn’t ask me out. But my sister – Lily – she had a girlfriend first, so she kind of paved the way for me to get less shit for it.”

 “That’s…that’s good,” Sammy swallows, his mouth dry, glad that Jack doesn’t think the question is too weird or invasive.

Sammy’s so totally not good at this. He wishes he were in a bad sitcom so he could have a headset where Ben could be in the next room but still tell him all the right things to say. Then again, in that episode of Will and Grace, that just led to the guy falling for Will instead, so maybe it was for the best that Sammy was stuck in real life. 

“Um – did you have a boyfriend in high school?” Jack nearly winces as he asks, brushing his hair back again. It’s unfairly distracting to Sammy’s state of mind. “Sorry, I sort of, um – assumed – from comments you’ve made, but if you –”

“I didn’t have a boyfriend in high school,” Sammy says slowly, feeling the patter of his heartbeat a little too intensely, “but I’ve had a boyfriend in college.”

“Oh,” Jack grins, and Sammy thinks he sees a slight blush. He’s probably imagining that, and definitely reading too much into it. “Cool.”

“I wasn’t really, uh, out in high school, people just sort of….guessed,” Sammy adds, thinking that as long as he was asking Jack to share he could probably share in return. “I lived in a pretty small town, but the adults at least were mostly alright about it. The adults that weren’t my parents, anyway. Kids are still cruel, though – Ben and I got a lot of shit since everyone thought we were dating.”

“So kind of like now?” Jack’s voice is clearly teasing, and Sammy can’t help but blush a bit.

“Yeah, kind of like now,” Sammy shrugs, trying not to feel weird about it even though he does. He’s not gonna stop being Ben-Dependent though, so he might as well get over the insecurity. “Unfortunately.”

“Hey, it just means you guys are close,” Jack says, and he seems almost offhand about it. “Having a best friend is a good thing.”

“Makes dating sort of hard,” Sammy says, and his mouth starts to taste almost wooden. He doesn’t know why he’s taking the conversation this way, but it’s happening and he can’t stop it now. “No one will believe I’m not like, secretly in love with him.”

Jack laughs, but it’s more of a sympathetic chuckle than his usual laugh that makes his whole face light up and dimples appear in the corners of his cheeks. “Well, people should believe you when you tell them you’re not.”

Sammy tries not to grimace, but he does anyway.

“Ben and I are just….too close for most people to understand,” Sammy says, knowing that he’s putting it mildly. “But we’re – he just doesn’t fit, in a romantic sort of way. I try to explain it, but people don’t _get_ that. They just see him kiss my cheek goodbye and decide one of us is madly in love with the other and won’t listen when I try to tell them that could never happen.”

“Well, try to explain it to me, then.”

Sammy blinks at Jack, who’s expression hasn’t changed from a gentle smile. Sammy’s heartbeat quickens.

“Seriously,” Jack’s not prodding, but he does sound curious. “We’ve got plenty of time up here! I can work on the track list later instead of taking notes in class. Helping you articulate your woes of misunderstood platonic friendship seems way more important.”

Jack very nearly sounds sort of genuine. Or maybe he just sounds completely genuine, Sammy isn’t sure how to read the kindness but he knows he should probably give Jack a little more credit for meaning what he says.

“I – okay,” Sammy clears his throat, wishing he had water. He has tea, though. He always has his earl grey sitting on the side of the desk. “Um, well. I guess – I would have to start with, um. Saying that, well, _technically,_ I lied before when you asked if I had a boyfriend in high school because, because….I dated _Ben_ in high school.”

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, and Sammy quickly and firmly corrects course with “For five days.”

Jack’s somewhat shocked expression turns into a bitten lip and a quiet chuckle, and Sammy can’t help but laugh a little with him. For Sammy at least, the idea is absurd now. He hopes Jack can see how absurd it is, too.

“I usually don’t tell anyone that, because they get weird about it,” Sammy says. “But really – it was only for five days, we kissed once, and we’ve been trying to forget it ever happened since we decided dating just wasn’t for us.”

“Why’d you decide that? I mean, dating in the first place, but also why it wouldn’t work?” Jack asks, not quite prodding but clearly curious. His voice and eyes haven’t changed in their quiet, steadfast nature, and Sammy feels an inordinate sense of relief.

“He’s my best friend,” Sammy says, the words always a comfort to him and now is no exception, “and when my parents made it clear I wasn’t welcome at home, I obviously went right to him. By the time I managed to tell him I was gay, he was already in the middle of coming out to me, too. We sort of thought – I mean, we were the only queer kids in school. Everyone already assumed. And we just wanted to be closer.”

Sammy clears his throat forcefully, purposefully looking behind Jack’s head instead of right at him. “But it didn’t make us closer. It just made things weird, and suddenly it felt like there were all these rules – but that’s the really shitty thing they try to sell you about friendship – that romance is always _more._ Ben and I were never meant to date, and it only took us five days to figure that out completely and forever.”

The words start to spill out, too quickly, after that, and Sammy can’t stop them because there’s a part of him that thinks Jack just might _understand_.

“It’s like – there’s this space in me that Ben fills so, so perfectly – and that’s a space for friendship. Any attempt at romance helped us realize that’s all we wanted from each other – but also that we could, like, still be just as close as people dating could be, and it didn’t have to mean anything else. It could just be friendship.”

Jack says, meaningfully, “That’s very sweet,” but Sammy isn’t done.

“I love Ben more than anything,” Sammy says, and shit, now literal tears are coming to his eyes, why the hell is he like this, he can’t look at Jack anymore and chooses the dials of the soundboard instead, “but that doesn’t mean that there’s not a separate space that isn’t his, you know? I want to love someone in a romantic way, too, and that’s _never_ going to be Ben. Ever. He couldn’t fit there if we tried all our lives. Does this – shit, I feel like I’m not making any sense.”

“You are, you are,” Jack says quickly, and he reaches across the single foot between them to squeeze Sammy’s knee, just for a second.

 The touch makes Sammy feel hot all over, and a wave of dizziness hits him that he tries to blink away.   

“It makes total sense,” Jack says, firm and quiet, which steadies Sammy. “Just because you and Ben dated for five days doesn’t mean you have any interest in that now. It’s really shitty that no one believes you. You seem very self-aware that you don’t want to be with him like that.”

“I don’t regret it,” Sammy wipes at his eyes, quickly in the hopes that Jack doesn’t notice. He definitely has, Sammy knows, but he can pretend otherwise. “It made me realize I only ever want him to be my best friend. Platonic life partner. Whatever. And I wouldn’t be able to say half of this shit if I didn’t have him in my life from the time I was a kid. I’d probably _still_ be stuck in the closet if he weren’t around. That’s if I’d even be here at all…”

Sammy cuts himself off, realizing exactly what he said with a kind of dull horror –

Jack hugs him.

Sammy’s not sure when or how it happened, only that Jack’s arms are around his shoulders and squeezing, and it’s sort of awkward since they’re both leaning out of their stools, but it’s also kind of wonderful, and more than amazingly sweet.

“Sorry,” Sammy swallows back the urge to cry again, and Jack squeezes once more before he lets go and leans back in his seat. Sammy misses the contact, but Jack’s eyes are unbearably kind, and also maybe a little watery, too.

“Don’t be sorry – I get it, I really do. I wouldn’t be anywhere without Lily – my sister. She was my hero growing up, and I definitely wouldn’t be brave enough to come out if she hadn’t done it first. Support like that means everything. I’d do anything for her, and I’m sure you’d do the same for Ben.”

Jack’s voice very nearly cracks as he says, painful and jolting, “She has a bit of a drinking problem. I’m trying to help, but – it’s hard, to see her vulnerable. I always thought she was so invincible.”

“God, Jack,” Sammy blinks back his own tears as Jack shifts slightly away from him, and Sammy can tell the green in his eyes is brighter than usual with barely held back tears. “I’m really sorry. This is like, nothing compared to that, are you –”

“I’m fine,” Jack says quickly, blinking a few times which clears up his eyes. “I’m fine, and so is she – Katie and I are trying to get her the help she needs. I only brought it up because – well, even if you and Ben had a thirty-second relationship, it sounds much more like you think of him as your brother.”

“I do,” Sammy says, feeling relief at Jack getting it mingled with worry for Jack’s well-being. Is he eating and sleeping enough? That must be so stressful, but Sammy has to reign in the urge to take care of him because that’s clearly not his job. “Ben’s – Ben’s my little brother, I want to watch out for him, and, and keep him safe. That’s all.”

“Like me and Lily,” Jack says, and Sammy nods along with him. “See, it’s not that hard to grasp. You must be dating some real morons if they can’t get that.”

Sammy can’t help but chuckle weakly, thinking that Jack’s probably right. Jack laughs along with him, his cheeks a little pink, but he doesn’t look like he’s going to cry anymore.

“The guys Ben dates never care as much about me,” Sammy says, trying to return the conversation to something lighter and easier. “I guess I’m just not a threat. But Ben’s personality type is like – he’s crazy about everyone and everything, he’s just leveled up when it comes to me. I really only have Ben, but I want –”

Sammy’s never been any good at articulating what he wants, but Jack is looking at him like what he’s going to say next matters, like the whole world could hang on this moment, and it makes Sammy brave enough to keep going.

“I want someone to fill the space Ben doesn’t,” Sammy feels like he’s swallowing glass, “because I love Ben but – but Ben is so loud, and sometimes I just want things to be quiet. I just want things to be quiet. And I want to have someone to be quiet with."

Jack leans over and squeezes Sammy’s shoulder, and doesn’t say anything. Sammy likes when Jack touches him, and isn’t analyzing that. He feels comfortable enough with it that he even keeps talking, because apparently now that he’s started he can’t stop.

“No one’s very willing to try that out, though,” Sammy chuckles even though this time it’s not funny at all. “My first boyfriend, this guy I was obsessed with freshman year, told me he could only keep dating me if I stopped being the way I was with Ben. Not just touchy-feely, just like – _friends,_ in general _._ I obviously had to break up with him, I know that, but – that sort of fucked me up, dating-wise. I’ve sort of made my peace that no one’s going to understand my weird platonic thing with Ben, and I guess it’s greedy to want that and something else –”

“Don’t say that,” Jack says, and he almost sounds a little angry, but not at Sammy. He leans incrementally closer. “You deserve to have friendship and romance – everyone does. Everyone _needs_ both, we all need all kinds of love – and you _clearly_ love Ben so much. That’s something to celebrate. What it sounds like to me is that all these guys – they just know they can’t measure up to him. They know how much they suck, and they know your best friend is gonna tell you that. That just means they need to step up and be better.”

Sammy stares at him, comprehending the words but not quite letting them sink in – well, of course Sammy’s _first_ boyfriend sucked, but there had been a couple guys since then, and they couldn’t all possibly think like that except, well, that might make sense….

“That just means you need to have high standards,” Jack grins at him, much lighter than before, his voice losing the edge. “You need a guy who’s going to listen to all of that and decide that he’s going to fill his space just as well as Ben fills his. Take it as a personal challenge rather than a detriment. You’ll find someone who’s willing to be the best he can be for you. I know you will. You’re worth it.”

Sammy can barely look at him, his face feels so flushed. Does Jack really believe that? If he does, is he talking about some nebulous future man Sammy could meet or is it possible he could want –

Sammy _cannot_ think like that.

“Thanks,” Sammy finally manages to say as he blocks out all possible thoughts. “I – I don’t know if I believe it, but you’re really great for saying it. Ben’s a little too close to the situation to give me words of wisdom – he usually just tells me that guys who think we’re weird aren’t worth my time.”

“That’s the abridged version of my little speech,” Jack grins as he scuffs his tennis shoe against the floor. “Sorry if that was too much, I just – you’re great, Sammy. I know we haven’t known each other for long but – I know you’re a good person.”

“You too,” Sammy says because he has no idea how to adequately express emotion right now. “I – I’m really sorry about your sister. If there’s anything I can do to help –”

“I’ll let you know,” Jack says, and his smile turns to a pensive frown. He blinks a couple of times before he says “And you let me know if I can help – with, um, anything. And even if there’s nothing you need – I’d still like to spend more time with you. And Ben, too. He seems like a really great guy.”

Sammy isn’t exactly sure what Jack’s offering, but he knows it’s making him feel like melting into the ground into a puddle of pining goop. It’s probably just Jack trying to be nice and reciprocate Sammy’s sentiments, but Sammy can’t help the swooning feeling in his stomach.

It’s quiet for a couple of seconds, but Sammy feels too big for his own skin and quickly says “Do you want to watch some more of rehearsal?”

Jack opens the window and Sammy sips his tea as they sit in silence. Jack clicks on his track list a few times, plays a few things for Sammy and makes some snide remarks that Sammy laughs at. Everything seems normal, just a little heavier than most nights. Their movements have more weight to them.

The rehearsal distracts from that, thankfully, and it isn’t long before they’re both chuckling as Ben climbs on top of Emily’s shoulders as she parades him around the theatre as they profess their love for one another in their first scene together, Tim giving them a disgusted look from the corner.  

“Alright, you two!” Mary calls from the sidelines, giggling herself. The whole cast seems to be laughing, and most of the crew too – the girls painting the set in the opposite corner, and the stage manager and her assistant in the other corner. “Can we take it from the top with less shenanigans, maybe?”

“We love shenanigans!” Ben calls as he begins to teeter, and Sammy feels a quick protective burst of worry –

Emily steadies Ben in an instant, seemingly effortless, and Sammy breathes a sigh of relief. “Be careful, Benny! I can’t keep this up much longer!”

Emily sets Ben down as Mary admonishes them lightly with a shake of her head, though Sammy can tell even from a distance that she’s hiding a smile.

“They’re ridiculous,” Sammy says when he sees Jack give him a questioning look. “Well, I don’t know Emily very well yet –but Ben certainly is the most ridiculous person alive, so I’m sure he’s rubbing off on her.”

“Are they, like…?” Jack makes a somewhat crude gesture that makes Sammy shudder. Not at Emily who seems lovely, but at the idea of Ben having sex in general. “I mean, does Ben even like girls?”

“Sure, I guess,” Sammy says, smiling slightly as Ben puts his arms around Emily’s waist and holds her in the Titanic pose. Tim and Maggie are scrambling up to the same in the opposite direction – the cast is quickly devolving from Mary’s control. “He’s only really dated guys, but he’s had crushes on girls and stuff.”

“I’m guessing he’ll probably be dating a girl pretty soon,” Jack grins, his eyes flitting between Ben and Emily’s comical posturing downstairs and Sammy’s fond look down at them.

“Emily will just have to be okay with dating someone that much shorter than her,” Sammy can’t help but laugh, pointing downward. “See? He’s barely past her shoulder.”

“Right, you don’t like short guys,” Jack points finger guns in Sammy’s direction that make him groan even through his smile.

“The real reason I can’t date Ben,” Sammy jokes, feeling better about Jack knowing everything now that he can make jokes about it. “I mean, he’d be on his tip-toes, I’d have to lean down… It’d be a whole mess – especially when I want to be the one on my tip-toes.”

It’s hardly the most candid thing Sammy’s said to Jack tonight, but it makes him blush nonetheless.

Jack gets an odd look on his face, somewhere between pleased and pensive, and Sammy waits a few seconds before he can’t help but ask “What’s with the face?”

“Nothing,” Jack says, and Sammy thinks the bottom falls out of his stomach when Jack clarifies, ruefully and not looking directly at Sammy, “I’m just trying to remember how much taller I am than you.”

All of the air in Sammy’s lungs drains away in an instant, and he begins to feel lightheaded all over again, except much more extreme.

He can barely process the ramifications of what Jack just said even as Jack blushes and Sammy’s sure he does, too. They make eye contact, very briefly and likely on accident, and Jack’s bright green eyes are just too much to look at.

They break away, and Sammy matches Jack’s nervous laughter with his blood pumping and his heart somewhere in his chest.

The subject is changed, and then changed again, Mary calls them downstairs to go over notes for the night, and then rehearsal is over and Ben’s hanging on Sammy’s arm and pestering him about picking up some frozen pizza on the way home.

“Did you guys have a good night?” Ben asks both Sammy and Jack while the cast says their goodbyes and heads into the lobby. “Emily and I were having so much fun, did you see us do Titanic?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Sammy laughs, ruffling Ben’s hair and noticing the way Jack smiles when he notices the gesture. That’s not a usual reaction to Sammy and Ben's casual platonic intimacy, Sammy’s furiously nervous heart knows all too well.

“It was adorable,” Jack sincerely adds, and then looks at Sammy with a slight, shy smile. “And we….we had a really good time tonight.”

“Yeah,” Sammy unsticks his throat, which has become extremely dry in all of two seconds. “Yeah, we did.”

Jack leans in to hug him goodbye, brief but tight, and Sammy absolutely notices the way Jack leans down ever so slightly.

Jack even hugs Ben too, ducking down much further to Ben’s height. It makes Ben beam up at Jack, visibly pleased at the effort.

“Dude,” Ben whispers delightedly as Jack waves goodbye to them and heads over in Katie’s direction, “that was a _hug_.”

“Shut up, he hugged you, too,” Sammy says, but realizes in the next second that that probably isn’t a bad thing. It probably means Jack knows that he and Ben are a package deal and if he wants to date Sammy –

“ _Shut up_ ,” Sammy whispers and Ben gives him a questioning frown at the repetition. Sammy quickly adds “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to myself.”

“Okay,” Ben rolls his eyes and pats Sammy’s elbow. “Time for you to go home and go to sleep, buddy.”

Sammy barely sleeps at all that night, going over the conversation in his mind again and again, because –

Because if Ben hadn’t been right before, he certainly is now. There’s no way to deny that Jack is, at the very least, thinking about Sammy in a different than platonic sort of way. A Not-Ben Way, if you will. The kind of way that scares the hell out of Sammy and quite literally keeps him up at night.

Sammy has no idea what he’s supposed to do now.


	3. Chapter Three

“What’s got you all maudlin today?” Ben asks, running a couple steps to fully catch up with Sammy and linking their arms together so as not to be left behind. They’re walking through the quad but the journalism building is the opposite side of campus and they need to be there in ten minutes for their reporting class.

“What? Nothing,” Sammy knows Ben doesn’t believe him. For one thing, his voice comes out more like a croak, and he hasn’t been talking much at all today which is out of character for him. He’s too busy overanalyzing to contribute to the conversation. Anyway, Ben talks enough for the two of them.   

“Tell me,” Ben leaves no room for a no as he tightens his grip, and although Sammy is physically capable of shaking him off and leaving him behind, it’s just not wired into his DNA. He’d feel terrible for weeks. Ben would probably cry.

“I – um, I took your advice about talking to Jack,” Sammy says, uncomfortable even as Ben gives a little cheer. “I didn’t actually learn much about him because I was too busy oversharing all my weird anxieties. And I sort of tried to…..explain us. You and me. And I think – I think he might’ve gotten it?”

He winces, even as Ben clarifies with an excited smile, “The two of us? Our whole doomed love affair?”

“Don’t call it that, it’s not that dramatic,” Sammy mumbles, nudging Ben’s shoulder with his elbow. “Doomed love affairs don’t last five days.”

“Romeo and Juliet –”

“I refuse to have this conversation again.”

Ben laughs, clearly not committed to the argument, and pulls Sammy even closer. “Good! I’m glad he gets it. About time someone did. Ooh, do you think that’s why he hugged me last night? Do you think he wants to bond with me since he likes you? I hope he does, he seems like _such_ a nice guy, I wanna be his friend!”

“I don’t know about the whole liking me thing,” Sammy says, replaying the moment in his mind again. _I’m just trying to remember how much taller I am than you._ It was certainly more than a couple of inches. Shut up, Stevens. Jesus. “But he said…he said he wants to spend more time with you. And me.”

“ _Oooh_ ,” Ben digs his elbow into Sammy’s side unnecessarily. Sammy groans in complaint, but Ben just keeps tugging him along the sidewalk. The streets aren’t busy now since it’s not a typical between-class time, so there’s no one Ben can disturb with his loud insinuations. Except Sammy, of course. “That _totally_ means he likes you.”

“I….well, maybe,” Sammy admits and Ben nearly stops short as he stares up at him.

“Did you just admit it?” Ben’s eyes _sparkle_. “Did you just admit that Jack Wright might possibly reciprocate your enormous crush?”

“I’m admitting nothing, just – just that it feels….less ambiguous, after what we talked about last night,” Sammy says, deciding to keep the moment to himself. It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell Ben, it’s just that he doesn’t want Ben to force him into doing anything that terrifies the hell out of Sammy. Which are most things that involve romance, and also most things that involve Jack Wright.

“Well, I think that’s great,” Ben squeezes Sammy’s elbow and continues pulling him along the riverbank as the journalism building looms closer. “I think Jack is a really sweet, good guy, and that’s what you deserve. A nice boy. That’s what I deserve too, maybe I should get back on Tinder –”

“I don’t like the person you become when you’re on Tinder,” Sammy grumbles, then stops Ben short too, pulling him back and making him stagger slightly. “Also, dude, what the hell? What about Emily?”

“Emily? From the play?” Ben asks, wide-eyed, as if there are other Emilys that Sammy could possibly be talking about. “Oh….I don’t know. Do you think I could? I mean – she’s so wonderful, and funny, and smart, and, and tall! I’m sort of intimidated.”

“You? Ben Arnold? Nothing’s ever scared you in your whole life,” Sammy is, quite honestly, a little gob-smacked at the look of uncertainty on Ben’s face. “Ask her out! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Ask _him_ out! What’s the worst that could happen?”

The bickering leads them all the way to class.

* * *

 

Even though Sammy hadn’t been overly nervous during the day, he feels like he’s going to throw up as he waits for Jack in the sound booth. He’s a couple of minutes late, and Sammy’s trying and failing not to overanalyze what that could possibly mean.

 _It means his bus was probably late,_ Sammy tells himself sternly, _not that he regrets everything he’s ever said to you._

Still, he can’t help but be afraid.

Because he likes Jack. He likes Jack _so much._ Not only that, but he thinks Jack would be a _great_ boyfriend, the kind of boyfriend that a romcom protagonist would end up with at the end of the movie. A good romcom protagonist too, like in When Harry Met Sally and not, like, any movie that has Adam Sandler in it.

And now Jack might actually want to _be_ Sammy’s boyfriend, or at the very least maybe make out with him. A comment about potentially wanting to kiss Sammy wasn’t the same thing as wanting to date him. Jack could just want to hook up or something, and then Sammy wouldn’t be able to say no to that and would fall even more stupidly for Jack.

Sammy’s brain needs to _stop going there right now._

“Hey, sorry I’m late!”

Jack’s already speaking as he swings the door open, and his body seems tenser than usual even if his expression is his usual bright smile with the dimples. He still turns a little pink when he makes eye contact with Sammy, though, his green eyes shifting to focus on Sammy’s nose. He’s wearing his glasses tonight, but even with them obscuring his eyes slightly, Sammy can see some dark circles.

“I was with Lily at her new therapist’s place and it ran sort of long,” Jack explains as he sits, and he hands Sammy one of the two Starbucks cups he’s holding. Sammy wonders why he would take the extra time to go to Starbucks if was already running late – _don’t go there, don’t go there, don’t go there._

“It’s okay,” Sammy says, hoping he doesn’t sound as breathless and anxious as he feels. He takes a sip of the drink to distract himself, and chokes back a bit in surprise at the flavor. “Here, this is coffee, must be yours.”

“Oh, sorry!” Jack’s eyes get wider as he switches their cups, their hands brushing for just a second.  Sammy feels a tingle of electricity at the touch, and from the way Jack’s hands shake slightly, he thinks maybe Jack might be feeling it, too.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sammy says, curling both of his hands around the hot tea as a sort of comfort. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jack stammers a bit, but his wide eyes don’t look nearly as afraid as Sammy feels. Sammy wonders why he’s even deciding to ask this right now when he could just deflect and avoid, as is his way.

But Sammy really does want to know, and he feels a buzzing pressure in his head as he asks “Why do you always bring me tea?”

Jack’s shoulders don’t quite relax, but he certainly gets a little less tense, and he cocks his head as he chuckles. He looks right at Sammy when he answers, green eyes crinkling around the edges. “Because you seem surprised every time I do it.”

Now it’s Sammy’s turn to blush, and take a deep and profound interest in the color of his shoes.

“Is this weird now? Did I make things weird yesterday?” Jack asks, scrunching up his face in an almost unattractive way. Almost. On Jack, everything is at least a little cute, and his whole-face wince is unfairly adorable. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I think _I_ might’ve mad things weird with my ten minute overshare about my relationship with Ben that no one wants to hear about, let alone understand,” Sammy means at as a joke, but Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, the expression in his face nearly frightened.

“I did want to hear about,” Jack says firmly. “I asked, didn’t I?”

“It was still a weird amount of baggage for me to share when we’re supposed to creating the final track list Mary-Approval,” Sammy forces another laugh, even though it’s very much true. “Just – don’t worry about it. It’s not weird, okay? And we’ve got work to do, so –”

“It’s not baggage, or if it is, it’s _barely_ baggage,” Jack talks over whatever Sammy had been trying to say about authentic Victorian doorbell sounds. “Having a best friend barely qualifies as a problem, alright?”

Jack’s laugh doesn’t have much humor in it, and Sammy can’t help but ignore whatever lingering weirdness is happening to shift toward Jack and put his hand on Jack’s knee for half a second.

Jack looks over at him, bright eyes obscured just slightly by his black-rimmed glasses. Sammy loves his glasses more every time he sees them even though he shouldn’t think like that and instead think about Jack and the clear distress written on his face.

“Is everything alright with Lily?” Sammy asks, concern growing that has nothing to do with his own feelings for a change. Jack nods in affirmation, making a gesture with his hand to cease and desist.

“Sorry, Lily is doing much better actually, I’m just _definitely_ making things weird right now,” Jack looks down through the closed window at the cast, who are all sitting leaned up against one wall while Mary talks at them. They can’t hear what’s going on right now, but Jack says “Let’s watch some of rehearsal, tech week is coming up and we should really know what the cast –”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Sammy says, heart thumping extra loud in his chest, but he’s ignoring that right now because Jack is clearly upset and Sammy wants him not to be and he hopes it doesn’t have anything to do with him.

Jack winces, still looking down through the window and not at Sammy. “I just feel stupid, making that dumb comment about being taller than you after you shared so much with me, and that was like, apparently the most intelligent thing I could say when you were so….vulnerable, and articulate, and I just….I feel stupid, that’s all.”

“It’s not stupid,” every part of Sammy’s body feels lighter, and it’s easy to infuse his next words with affection. “I mean, you _are_ taller than me.”

That manages to get a little snort out of Jack, and Sammy grins along with him, feeling better already and hoping that Jack is, too.

“I’ve just been overthinking, sorry,” Jack ducks his head down, running a hand through his hair, and Sammy wants to tell him to stop apologizing, that Sammy’s the master of overthinking everything anyone’s ever said to him in his entire life. “I mean, you shared so much with me, and it clearly meant a lot, and I was just –”

“It did mean a lot,” Sammy tells him, hoping to hit a reassuring note. “Mostly because were the first person to actually listen and try to understand all of my bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Jack’s voice is harsh but kind, and he still isn’t looking at Sammy. “You love your best friend. People should just _get_ that. I wish that was my biggest problem, alright?”

“Well, tell me about your bullshit, then,” Sammy says, the words coming far too naturally for all the panicking he’s done today. Jack does look at him this time, questioning and a little curious. “Seriously, I meant to ask you about yourself yesterday and then got sidetracked by my whole dramatic thing. Besides, personal conversations are apparently the thing we do way more than sound design –”

That gets Jack to genuinely smile, if it’s a bit rueful. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So –” Sammy gestures, wondering when he got this brave.

Jack hesitates for half a second before he starts, his expression clearly more than a little reticent. “Well, I guess I _technically_ lied before. About why I bring you Starbucks every day. I do it for you, because you’re surprised, and it always makes you smile, but – I also convince myself that since I _have_ to go to Starbucks since it’s for _you_ – I can also get some food for myself. Because sometimes that’s the only thing I’ll eat all day.”

Sammy stares and Jack’s mouth twists almost painfully. “I don’t eat much at all. I work out a lot, and I can usually eat after that, but other than that, my Starbucks meal is about the only solid food I get each day. I have chronic nightmares, so I only get a few hours of sleep every night. So instead of sleeping, I get obsessed with weird research projects and stay up all night working on inane shit about like, conclusive evidence pointing toward the existence of Bigfoot. I am, generally, too weird for anyone but my sister to handle.”

Jack grimaces as he adds, voice much smaller and more insecure than Sammy’s ever heard it before, “And all three boyfriends that I’ve had cheated on me. Probably because no one wants to deal with all of…. _that_. So trust me – having a best friend is a _much_ better reason for someone to break up with you. At least that one’s not your fault.”

Sammy’s never seen Jack quite this vulnerable, with somewhat watery eyes and his shoulders hunched over, and Sammy –

Sammy’s so glad that Jack trusts him.

“Getting cheated on isn’t your fault,” Sammy says, latching onto the thing Jack said that bothers him most, that he wants Jack to know and understand and internalize. “That means you’re dating some really unfortunate assholes, alright? That’s definitely a personal failing of _theirs,_ not yours.”

“I know that,” Jack starts, and it sounds like there’s a _but_ coming and Sammy cuts him off before he can say it.

“And none of what you just said is a good reason to break up with someone either, if you really care about them,” Sammy says, throat getting dryer by the second with nerves, but he’s going to say this anyway because for some reason beyond his comprehension, Jack needs to hear it. “Someone should – _want_ to take care of you, and make it easier for you to, to sleep and eat and everything else. That’s what a good boyfriend would do, so –you just haven’t had any good boyfriends.”

Sammy realizes, with a clarity that makes him a little dizzy, that he wants that to be him. _He_ wants to be Jack’s good boyfriend that takes care of him. He wants it so badly, his chest hurts just thinking about it.

Jack clearly doesn’t realize the reason for the sudden shortness of Sammy’s breath, too busy drawing a knee up to his chest and smiling over at Sammy even though his eyes are still watery. God, they’re so green. Sammy loves green eyes, or maybe just loves Jack’s eyes and the way they look at him like they’re hanging on his every word.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t ask –”

Sammy doesn’t let Jack keep going. “I literally just asked, Jack! Quit apologizing, okay? You don’t have to justify anything to me, and I wanted to hear it. You listened to me, I can return the favor. Besides, you’re….you’re my _friend_.”

Sammy hopes Jack doesn’t take that the wrong way, and by the sudden softness in Jack’s face, Sammy doesn’t think he did. “I don’t really have friends that aren’t Ben – but you’re my friend and I really care about you, and you deserve some reassurance, too, alright?”

Sammy, feeling more than a little embarrassed at the outburst, looks at the ground. He only looks up again when Jack puts a hand on his knee, and Sammy feels his body heat up almost instantly in response.

“You’re right,” Jack says quietly, and his smile seems less strained than before. “I – I don’t usually tell people about my shit, they just sort of assume I’m well put-together because that’s what I try to pretend to be.”

“I pretend with most people,” Sammy says, because he can’t help but be honest, “but I can’t really do that with you. And I don’t want to, either.”

He feels overly, painfully candid, and the energy between the two feet of space between him and Jack seems to tingle with electricity, or maybe that’s just Sammy’s fingertips that are only inches from Jack’s resting on the board. It would be so easy to reach out –

“Got some room left in the friend-shaped place in your heart?” Jack says, voice light but not teasing. Sammy doesn’t think he’s quite asking if there’s any space left somewhere else, but Sammy’s brave enough to remind him that it exists, anyway.

“Maybe,” Sammy swallows, “but I’ve got some other spaces, too.”

Jack’s face practically lights up, and Sammy feels his do the same. They stare at each other until Sammy clears his throat and looks out the window without really seeing what’s beneath them. 

He’s not quite brave enough for anything else right now. He’s done more tonight than he probably has in all of his life.

“We should probably get that finalized track list for Mary,” Sammy says, feeling some of the heat in the room drain away as Jack nods. “We’ve got plenty of time to – to figure anything else out. I mean….right?”

Sammy hates himself for the insecurity that leaks into his voice, but Jack immediately leans close enough that their shoulders brush together, just for an instant.

“Right,” Jack says, certain and firm. “I like the way we are right now.”

“Me too,” Sammy says, and he definitely means it.  

The evening feels much more normal, if a little more electric than usual, after that. He and Jack make a string of teasing remarks about Ben and Emily’s awkward stage kiss where they both seem too nervous to make it look real, and everything seems to settle back down around them.

Sammy still feels like he can’t get a good breath of air in, but not because he’s afraid. If anything, it might be the opposite of that. It might be because of just how _sure_ he is.  

* * *

 

“He likes you _so much_.”

Ben’s voice leaves no room for argument, and how he can manage to sound so impassioned when he’s splayed across the couch with his feet in Sammy’s lap is beyond Sammy’s comprehension. It’s past midnight and Ben’s hitting the limit he does about every three days when he gets too exhausted to function anymore and short-circuits.

Or at least he was until Sammy decided to share with him his new general state of being surrounding Jack, which has no definition except the eternal fluttering feeling in Sammy’s chest whenever he thinks about it.

“I guess? I don’t know,” Sammy says, thinking about turning the volume up on the TV again to dissuade Ben from making any further additions. They’ve been watching reruns of Gilmore Girls for most of the day, ignoring their homework and other more pressing things. Ben has his script on the table, and he and Sammy had run lines a few hours ago but it’s long forgotten now.

“You don’t share those things with people just for kicks and giggles,” Ben tells him. “Well, unless you’re me because I share everything with everyone. But Jack’s not me.”

“Thank God,” Sammy remarks on reflex, and Ben shoves one of his feet upwards into Sammy’s face. He bats the somewhat smelly sock away, wrinkling his nose with disgust.

“I hope he can sleep okay when he starts spending nights here. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Ben says with a glint in his eye like he’s already planning for it and Sammy gives him a long look.

“Okay, even if we do start dating at some point, we’re not dating yet! There’s no need to –”

“There is, because you will,” Ben cuts him off, sitting up on his elbows to grin at Sammy. “I see the little embarrassed look on your face. I know you know that you’re just treading water until one of you makes a move.”

“Whatever,” Sammy grumbles under his breath, and keeps his arms tightly crossed. Ben sits up fully, latching himself onto Sammy’s side in an attempt to pry them apart. Sammy won’t let him, and Ben eventually just sighs and leans his head on Sammy’s shoulder.

“You’re a good cook. I bet he’ll try to eat if you cook for him,” Ben says, snuggling into his shoulder even further. Sammy can’t stop him now, he’s too committed. “I know you’ll take really good care of him – you’ve had practice with me. I would fall off the face of the earth if you weren’t here.”

“I hope so,” Sammy says quietly, about taking care of Jack and not about Ben falling off the face of the earth, which is a nightmare scenario and he knows Ben knows that. Sighing, he decides he may as well try to shift the conversation and adds, “So when are you gonna take your own advice and ask Emily out?”

Sammy’s expecting some spluttering and defensive gestures, but instead Ben makes a miserable little noise and buries his nose in Sammy’s arm.

“What?” Sammy nudges him, resting his head on top of Ben’s for a second. “C’mon, you can’t be that nervous. You screamed over the music at a Panic! At the Disco concert to get a guy’s number – if you can do that, you can do anything.”

“She’s just really – you know, really wonderful, and I’m –” Ben breaks off to make a brief whining noise. “I don’t know! I feel like she wouldn’t like me.”

“Ben, I’ve only talked to Emily a handful of times and I _promise_ she likes you,” Sammy says, and Ben doesn’t even look at him. That’s unusual for Ben, who faces all confrontation head-on. “C’mon, what’s so scary about a pretty girl?”

“That she’s a girl,” Ben says, muffled into Sammy’s arm. “I don’t know how to ask out a girl! I don’t even know how a girl would like me. I’m – I cry at everything and I’m really tiny and I perform Oscar Wilde for fun, how am I supposed to compete with all the straight guys out there?”

“ _Ben_ ,” Sammy feels his chest swell with affection as he pulls his arm out from Ben’s iron grip to hook it around Ben’s shoulder and pull him closer. Ben settles into Sammy’s chest with only minor squirming. “She’s _also_ performing Oscar Wilde for fun.”

“Yeah, but that’s alright for girls! That means I should be her gay best friend, not her boyfriend,” Ben mumbles into Sammy’s shirt. “What if that’s all she thinks of me?”

“She doesn’t,” Sammy promises. “And even if she does, then you correct her. If she doesn’t believe you, she’s not worth your time. But I promise, Ben, she likes you. Jack and I talk every day about how the two of you are gonna get together.”

“Really?” Ben blinks up at him with his wide doe eyes and Sammy pats Ben’s cheek with his opposite hand.

“Really,” Sammy tells him, a little bemused at Ben’s insecurity. That’s supposed to be Sammy’s thing.

“I just – she’s so beautiful and charming and smart, I don’t know how she’d ever choose me when she could have a guy who’s also all of those things –”

“Hey, shut up about my best friend!” Sammy flicks the top of Ben’s head and Ben scowls up at him with a hurt expression. “You _are_ all of those things. Well, charming and smart, I guess. I don’t know about beautiful, but you’re cute enough.”

“Shut up,” Ben says, but Sammy’s gotten him to smile. Sammy nudges at him a few more times before it becomes a patented Ben Arnold Blinding Grin.

“You’re perfect, anyone would be lucky to date you,” Sammy says, then adds even though Ben already knows, “other than me, because that’s gross.”

“I don’t wanna date you either,” Ben settles back into Sammy’s shoulder.

“Good,” Sammy says, and isn’t surprised in the least when Ben shifts to hug him, curling into Sammy’s chest like the koala bear he is.

* * *

 

Sammy and Jack’s usual routine is to walk out of the booth together at the end of the night, socialize with the cast for a couple minutes, and then one of them will leave at least two minutes before the other to circumvent any awkward goodbyes outside. They’ve never discussed this, but Sammy knows they’re both very much aware of the unwritten rules.

Sammy’s never actually seen Jack outside of the theatre building, unless you count the minimal glimpses of him that Sammy’s seen in the halls of the journalism school where he’s been far, far too nervous to go and say hi.

Tonight as Jack locks the sound booth door behind them, he says “Lily’s going to pick up Katie and me tonight – do you and Ben want a ride home?”

 “Oh, um, sure,” Sammy hopes Jack can’t hear how fast his heart is beating at the mere idea of being within the close quarters of a car with Jack, even if it’s with three other people, too. “If it’s not out of your way.”

“I’m sure we can make it work,” Jack grins and slips his key back into his pocket. They take the one hallway toward the lobby, Sammy trying to control his breathing and remind himself that this is all probably going to turn out just fine without any death or dismemberment.

Most of the cast is milling outside the front entrance to the black box, but Sammy doesn’t spot Ben, or Emily for that matter. Mary and Troy both wave over at them, but Katie’s the only one who walks up.

Katie yawns pointedly, stretching her shoulders back. “I’m beat. Lily says she’s parked down the street, though, so at least we’re not walking home. We’re just supposed to text her when we get outside.”

“Alright – Sammy and Ben are gonna catch a ride with us, if that’s cool,” Jack says and Katie gets a bit of a knowing glint in her eye that resembles Ben a little too much. Sammy looks at his feet and not at her. He handles it from Ben because he has to and he’s used to it, but casual acquaintances knowing about his interpersonal drama is a little much to deal with head-on.

“I’m sure that’ll be just fine,” Katie says, sounding too satisfied even though she isn’t smirking like Ben would be if he were here.

“Where is Ben? Have you seen him lately?” Sammy asks, the beginnings of concern blossoming in his chest, as always happens when Ben’s whereabouts are unknown. “My anaphylactic shock is kicking in.”

Jack laughs even as Katie gives him a mildly perturbed look and tells him “I just saw him five minutes ago, he and Emily –”

Katie’s cut off by a loud laugh down the hallway in the direction Sammy and Jack just came from, and then suddenly Emily’s streaking by them, Ben hot on her heels. They’re both giggling, and Emily grabs Katie’s shoulders in order to hide behind her. Emily’s taller but Katie’s much broader, so it doesn’t turn out too badly for Emily.

They’re both more than capable of blocking Ben, who’s practically jumping at Katie to get to Emily’s hiding spot. Sammy steps backward, slightly toward Jack, who has a bright, bemused that Sammy can’t think about right now.

“Give it back!” Ben whines, batting his hands at Emily through Katie, who’s chuckling, and then Sammy notices that Emily’s got a hold of Ben’s purple beanie tightly in one of her fists. “You’re so mean, give it back to me!”

“No!” Emily giggles. Katie doesn’t seem to mind being a human shield as she laughingly bats Ben’s arms away when he tries to reach up. “It’s mine now!”

As if to prove her point, Emily plops the beanie on top of her dark braids. She looks sort of silly, but her beaming grin says that she doesn’t care about that.

“Alright,” Ben seems to move in slow motion now, as compared to his previous frantic energy. Sammy recognizes his big does as he stares at Emily wearing his hat as the typical _wow, Ben’s crush could be seen from outer space_ except ten times stronger than Sammy’s ever seen it before. “I _guess_ you can keep it. For now!”

“I’ll give it back tomorrow,” Emily tugs the beanie down further on her head, nearly obscuring her eyes. “Maybe.”

She turns to Sammy and Jack, finally letting go of Katie’s shoulders. With a sparkle in her eye, she says, “I think Benny’s hair looks just lovely without the hat, but he disagrees.”

Oh wow, Sammy _really_ can’t look at Jack right now. He imagines lighting himself on fire and how much less heated and painful that would feel than the knowledge that Jack thinks the same about him.

“I didn’t say that!” Ben interrupts with a whine. “I just said – oh, it doesn’t matter anyway. You keep the beanie, Emily. I have six more anyway.”

“Maybe I’ll steal those, too.”

“Beanie thief!”

Sammy clears his throat and they both look over at him, Emily smiling genially and Ben with a distinct blush, knowing Sammy’s gonna tease him mercilessly for this later.

“Ben, Jack offered to give us a ride home,” Sammy says and the tables turn immediately. Ben gets a delighted look on his face and Sammy feels like melting into the ground because he knows Ben’s mockery has no expiration date.  

“Cool,” Ben beams up at him with a terrifying and smug energy that Sammy despises. Still, he’s genuine when he turns to Jack and says, voice meltingly sweet, “Thanks, Jack, you’re the best.”

“My pleasure,” Jack says, and Sammy finally looks over at him again. He’s running his hand through his hair and messing it up the way he does when he gets nervous. Sammy’s relieved he’s not the only one.

“Well, I’ll see you all tomorrow, then,” Emily waves cheerily at the four of them, stopping on her way toward the staircase to kiss Ben’s cheek. “I’ll bring your hat back then, Benny. Goodnight!”

It’s quiet for about five seconds as Emily moves out of earshot, and Ben’s already pouting as Sammy, Jack, and Katie all give him identical _oh my god, dude_ faces that aren’t coordinated but just the natural response to seeing and hearing all of Ben and Emily’s interactions.

“Ben, when are you going to ask that beautiful woman on a date?” Katie pats Ben’s shoulder in an almost consoling way.

“Shut up,” Ben scowls, but Sammy knows the hidden depths of Ben Arnold well and is perfectly aware that’s not an accurate representation of what he’s really feeling. “Are we getting a ride or not?”

The four of them start heading away from the black box, and Ben and Katie begin a discussion about a scene in Act Two on their way up the stairs, walking slightly ahead of Sammy and Jack. Jack keeps an even pace with him, Sammy notices, and their shoulders very nearly brush three times.

Even when they leave the building and Sammy has to contend with seeing Jack’s face lit up by the streetlights that glint off his hair, they still walk in time.  

There’s a Mazda parked on the street just outside the building, and Sammy suddenly gets unaccountably nervous when Jack gestures toward it with a half-grin, half-grimace.

“Sorry if my sister says anything…weird,” Jack mutters for only Sammy to hear as they approach, and Sammy’s suddenly certain that the paranoia he’s feeling is very much justified.  

Katie immediately goes to the passenger side door, leaving Sammy and Ben to follow Jack toward the backseat. Ben gives Sammy a shit-eating grin before Sammy get in after Jack. Sammy desperately hopes Ben will shut up for the five minute drive it’ll take them to get home.

“I see we picked up some hitchhikers,” the driver, who must be Lily, says in a droll, mocking tone. Sammy squints to see her face through the mirror. She has long reddish-brown hair tied back in a ponytail, somewhat broad shoulders, a sharp nose, and green eyes like her brother. Green eyes that are staring directly at Sammy through the mirror with an overly extreme amount of _knowing._

“What’s your guys’ address?” Katie asks, clearly in the middle of pulling up Google Maps as she connects her phone to the counsel. Lily leans over and pecks Katie’s cheek. Sammy becomes aware of Jack’s thigh pressing against his in the cramped backseat, every sense suddenly heightened.

“348 Louise Ave,” Ben says cheerfully. “You must be Katie’s girlfriend.”

“Lily Wright,” Lily says, with a sardonic twist to her mouth like they should cower in fear just at the name. Sammy, quite honestly, might. “Which one of you is the infamous Sammy Stevens?”

Sammy’s certain he’s about to get gutted like a fish. Ben elbows him sharply, and Sammy manages to get out “That’s me.”

Lily clearly already knows that if her smirk is anything to go by. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Um,” Sammy has no clue how he’s supposed to respond.

“Lily, just drive,” Jack says, voice tighter and slightly higher than usual, and Lily laughs under her breath as she pulls the car forward.

The car is filled with awkward silence for about a minute. Ben reaches over and squeezes Sammy’s hand, which he realizes is sweaty. He hopes Lily didn’t notice the casual intimacy with Ben, because Sammy feels like he’s in the midst of being served up on a platter right now to be skewered.  

“So how’s the play going?” Lily’s tone suggests that she knows exactly what she’s doing to Sammy’s psyche and likes it, smug and satisfied all at once.

“Really good,” Ben answers when Sammy doesn’t. Sammy chances a look over at Jack, who’s paler than Sammy’s seen him lately. It makes his freckles stand out.

 _Sorry,_ Jack mouths. He rests his hand on his own leg, but his knuckles are close enough to Sammy’s leg that they just barely brush against him. A rush goes through Sammy’s head that he needs to ignore.

Sammy tunes back into the rest of the car to hear Katie say “Yeah, Mary’s really good about letting us have fun, but we only have a week and a half left of rehearsals, so she’s getting a little stressed.” 

“And how’s the sound coming along?” Lily makes brief eye contact with Sammy through her mirror, and Sammy feels about two feet tall. “I hope Jack’s not overworking you with his compulsive need to make everything perfect.”

“No,” Sammy clears his throat as Jack shifts awkwardly next to him. Without looking, he can tell Jack’s glaring at Lily. “No, it’s been fun. We set up almost all of the rest of the cues tonight and just have to get final approval on a couple more. Next week is tech week so we’ll actually have to work for a change –”

Jack and Ben both laugh, but Lily doesn’t. She just smirks. Sammy’s starting to think maybe that’s all her face does.

“Well, is this you two?” Lily says, and thankfully pulls up just outside the front door of his and Ben’s building. Sammy can already feel some tension in his shoulders draining away as the possibility for escape opens up.

“Yeah, thank you so much for the ride,” Ben says, chipper and genial enough for the both of them. He unbuckles his seatbelt, and Sammy very nearly pushes him out the door to get him moving faster. “Nice to meet you, Lily! And see you guys tomorrow!”

“Goodnight,” Jack waves after Sammy as he tries to follow Ben. Sammy willingly slows down just a tad to smile back, mouthing _thank you,_ hoping Lily doesn’t see.

“That was nice of them,” Ben whispers as Sammy joins him on the sidewalk. Sammy’s about to make a comment about feeling like he can’t breathe, but before he can pull Ben away from the car, the driver’s side door suddenly opens unexpectedly.

Ben pulls Sammy closer to him so he can’t run away – always an option for him, honestly – and Lily slams the door behind her. Sammy can see now that she’s standing that she’s about midway between his and Ben’s heights, but the same ferocity to her presence is very much at play as she regards them both with slightly suspicious eyes.

“Jack plays rugby on Saturday mornings at Lawrence Park,” Lily says tonelessly and Sammy blinks at her, not knowing how to read the casual disinterest on her face. He can feel Ben poke excitedly at his shoulder, but Sammy has to ignore that right now.

“Um – what?”

“ _Jack plays rugby on Saturday mornings at Lawrence Park_ ,” Lily enunciates every word like she’s talking to a five year old. “Honestly, I knew you’d be dumb because that’s always Jack’s type, but –”

“Don’t insult him,” Ben frowns at Lily, the poking suddenly ceasing. “I mean, he _is_ dumb, but you don’t get to call him that.”

“Jesus,” Lily rolls her eyes. “I’m trying to do you a favor here! Jack’s been trying to invite you to come see a match for _ages_. He’s not playing again until after the show’s over, but that should give you plenty of time to put on your brave boy boots and come to his stupid game. You don’t have to understand it, but Katie will try to educate you on the finer nuances anyway. Alright? It’d mean a lot to him.”

Her voice softens, just a little, as her mouth twists in a grimace. It’s like her tone has betrayed her cool exterior, and she’s embarrassed by it.  

The back window of the Mazda starts to roll down and Sammy can hear Jack say through the car in a mildly panicked voice, “Lily, I swear to God –”

“My time’s up, but think about it,” Lily gives him a meaningful look like she’s probably going to beat him up if he doesn’t and waves as she gets back into the car. Sammy can hear her say, “ _What, Jack, I only –_ ” before the door slams shut and the car pulls back into the street.

 _“_ She’s _terrifying,”_ Ben says what Sammy’s thinking as they both stare at the spot that the car just departed from. “But you do realize we _have_ to go, right?”

Sammy puts an arm around Ben’s shoulder and starts tugging him toward the building. “Didn’t know you were a rugby fan.”

“Shut up with your dumb deflections, we _have_ to,” Ben tugs on Sammy’s sleeve. “You heard her, he really wants you to come! Plus, you can watch him be like, all strong and sweaty and hot, which is the only appealing thing about watching sports.”

Sammy knows exactly how right Ben is, so all he can say is “Does Emily play any sports?”

“Shut up! Shut up right now!” Ben turns bright red and plows one of his elbows into Sammy’s stomach with far too much vigor. “I don’t have any need for your commentary! None!”

“She took your beanie and you let her have it….she calls you Benny every chance she gets which even _I’m_ not allowed to do…she thinks your hair looks good…”

“ _No_! No commentary! None! I won’t listen to it and I won’t respond to it!”

* * *

 

Mary sends both Sammy and Jack an email with her notes on the track list to get finalized before Monday. There are a couple of cues to clean up, but Jack’s already said he’ll handle that on his own.

“All we need to do is pick a different song for the final scene,” Jack explains as he pulls his laptop out and balances it precariously on the soundboard. “Mary thinks Truly Madly Deeply is a little too slow-paced, despite its truly iconic status.”

“You’re sure I can’t help with anything else?” Sammy pesters lightly, actually sort of comfortable with the Garage Band software Jack had downloaded onto his computer back in their first week together. It’s been nearly six weeks since they’ve met, which is a little odd to think about so Sammy’s not going to.

“Don’t worry about it, I can fix everything else up tomorrow,” Jack waves a hand. “It’s just editing down stuff we already have to fit timing. This is our final creative choice, so we’d better dedicate the rest of the night to finding the truly perfect Oscar Wilde-approved love song. So I’m gonna need your Wilde expertise for sure.”

“Expertise is a strong way to put it,” Sammy snorts. “But sure. Whatever you say.”

“Alright so – suggestions?” Jack asks, bringing up their shared Google Doc with Mary on various song choices for the show. “She doesn’t like Whitney Houston either – a _travesty._ ”

“Whitney’s too legit for Wilde anyway,” Sammy says and Jack laughs. “We need something with, you know, some real flair and camp.”

“So ABBA,” Jack says and Sammy can’t help but laugh. Jack has proven multiple times the extent to which he can sing along to ABBA. It’s not nearly the volume of Ben’s ABBA knowledge, which has some real deep cuts, but Jack knows all the greatest hits at the very least. “SOS?”

“Maybe we’ll come _back_ to ABBA,” Sammy teases, “if we’ve exhausted all other options.”

“You’re cruel,” Jack nudges Sammy’s leg with his toe, but he’s smiling brightly. “No one’s campier than ABBA.”

“Cher? Bowie? _Queen_?”

“Well, I guess we’ve got options, then!”

They spend the next hour or so going down a YouTube hole with Jack clicking various options and each of them singing along with the strings of words they know. Mary wants a song that’s recognizable by the majority of the audience, which is made up of college students, so first Jack tries to think of classic 90s nostalgia love songs, while Sammy continuously fights for Somebody to Love instead.

“It’s too genuinely good of a song,” Jack says every time, and Sammy privately agrees but can’t stop arguing for it. “It’d be like putting in Elton John’s Your Song – it’s such a masterpiece and should be used only for the truest of love stories.”

“Is that your favorite, then?” Sammy’s voice is teasing but his heart thumps a little louder when Jack turns to him smiling a little sheepishly. “Your go-to love song?”

“For sure,” Jack’s voice drops a couple degrees in volume, and softens around the edges. Sammy feels his stomach start to flip-flop. “Is Somebody to Love yours?”

“Mine?” Sammy’s laugh comes out way more nervous than he intends. “Um, as far as the classics go.”

“And not-classics?”

Sammy becomes all too aware of the foot and a half of space separating them, how easy it would be to bridge that gap. The energy that seems to linger there seems to be trying to pull them closer together. Jack’s smile makes it less scary, but it still gives Sammy the shivers.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Sammy warns and Jack’s eyes crinkle as if preparing just for that. “But, um. Anything by the Lumineers. Especially Sleep on the Floor.”

“I think I’ve only ever heard Ho Hey and Ophelia,” Jack says, and to Sammy’s somewhat delight and somewhat dread, he starts typing _sleep on the floor_ into the YouTube search bar.

“It doesn’t fit Oscar Wilde at all,” Sammy isn’t sure if he’s trying to dissuade Jack from this path or not, but he’s certainly not trying very hard either way.

“We’re already listening to every song we can find, at least we know you _like_ this one,” Jack clicks on a lyric video, and Sammy can’t help but feel an inkling of affection as the opening chords play.

 _Pack yourself a toothbrush, dear,_ the crooning begins and Sammy immediately feels the need to distract Jack from the song at all costs.

“I dragged Ben to their concert two years ago,” Sammy says too loudly and pointedly. “He was bored out of his mind because he can’t listen to anything less than 200 BPM.”

“A tragic way to live,” Jack teases, and then his smile gets a little more contemplative. “I like this song. You’re right, it’s very romantic. Maybe not exactly Algernon’s definition of romantic, since he feels like a 200 BPM kind of guy, too…”

Sammy laughs, a little distracted by the comment he’s formulating about Ben getting typecast, so he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening when Jack holds his hand out toward him as if he wants Sammy to take something from it, only his hand is empty.

“What?” Sammy asks, and Jack motions with his head toward the rest of the sound booth.

“Dance with me,” Jack’s voice is low and nearly a whisper. He bites his lip as if preparing for a rejection and Sammy’s brain suddenly goes fuzzy.

“I – what?” Sammy repeats, not able to prevent the nervous giggle that escapes his mouth. “Are you serious?”

“You said it’s your favorite,” Jack says, all genuine wide eyes. The chorus starts, and Sammy thinks his heart is going to fall out chest. _If the sun don’t shine on me today, and if the subway floods and bridges break…_

“Yeah, but…” Sammy’s mouth has gone dry. “This booth is tiny.”

“So we just sway back and forth,” Jack says, and Sammy notices his outstretched hand is shaking a little. That makes any air left in his lungs dissipate on the spot. “C’mon, please?”

 Sammy honestly can’t argue with that, not with Jack’s shaking hands and such wide smile. Sammy hopes his own hand isn’t shaking as he takes Jack’s outstretched one.

Both of their palms are sweaty, Sammy notices as Jack pulls him up. Jack laughs when they both sort of awkwardly move their hands toward each other. Sammy’s never slow-danced with someone in his entire life unless you count middle school dances with girls whose names he can’t remember, and Sammy certainly doesn’t consider those.

Sammy’s hands end up on Jack’s waist eventually, and it almost feels like they’re hugging, they’re standing so close together as they sway. Sammy could lean forward and rest his forehead on Jack’s shoulder –

And he does, without overanalyzing that. Well, he overanalyzes once it happens, but it’s too late to move now, and Jack sucks a nervous breath in that Sammy can feel even though he’s not looking at Jack’s face. That would mean moving his head, and Sammy’s committed to keeping it in the crook of Jack’s shoulder and his neck.

This is, without a doubt, the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to Sammy in his life. _Jesus Christ can’t save me tonight,_ the song plays in the background and Sammy hopes he doesn’t start shivering because they’re so close that Jack would definitely notice.

Jack’s warm, and strong, and his hands slip from Sammy’s shoulders to around his torso, and it’s _good._ Sammy feels light and heavy all at once.

Sammy doesn’t want to ruin the magic, but he can’t help but ask, in a hushed whisper, “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” Jack whispers back, his mouth so close to Sammy’s head. “Impulse decision on my part. Good one?”

“I’m a fan,” Sammy says, and then looks up without meaning to.

Jack’s staring at him, green eyes clearly full of anxiety, but there’s a reverent quality to them that Sammy realizes after a couple of seconds must be directed at him. That’s stupid, he doesn’t know why Jack would look at him like that, but, well, he is. Jack is looking at him like that.

And Sammy –

Sammy lets himself imagine what kissing Jack would be like for the first time. He knows, with complete certainty, that it would feel just as good if not better than right now, and right now feels incredible. Anxiety-inducing and sort of like he’s going to throw up in three hours from a delayed adrenaline rush, but incredible nonetheless, like he’s on a different plane of existence.  

It would be so easy to –

The buzzing of Jack’s phone, sitting on the edge of the soundboard, cuts off Sammy’s train of thought.

It’s like a spell breaks. They don’t exactly spring apart like they’ve been burned, but each of them lets go at the same time, a bit too hurried, the dreamlike state instantly gone. Jack crosses the room while Sammy runs a hand through his hair. He pulls it from his bun and puts it back in again just to have something to do with his hands.

“Um, Mary wants us to come downstairs,” Jack’s pulling at his hair as well, and Sammy notices the deep red flush on his neck. He doesn’t quite look at Sammy. “Full team meeting.”

“Okay,” Sammy says, his voice coming out a little too hushed.

“Um – we should have a song, or at least a couple options,” Jack says as the final chords of Sleep on the Floor play out on his laptop. _‘Cause if we don’t leave this town, we might never make it out…_

“ABBA, obviously,” Sammy says, immediately rewarded by Jack’s brilliant smile. “SOS, like you said in the first place. Campy enough on face value, but still with thematic resonance since it could also easily be about Jack and Algernon who, as we know, are the central love story.”

“You’re so smart, “Jack says with clear meaning, and if Sammy hadn’t been blushing before he certainly is now. “Alright, let’s go.”

Sammy follows Jack from the booth, feeling a little jumpy and like he’s just come down from an intense high. The world doesn’t really stabilize around him until his shoulder inadvertently brushes against Jack’s and Jack turns to him with a shy smile as he purposefully bumps them together again.

The team meeting lasts about an hour, a string of last reminders from Mary before the weekend because Monday is the beginning of tech week and they open the following Thursday. She’s clearly stressed, but she’s not taking it out on anyone in particular, and she approves SOS as a song choice when Jack tells her.

Sammy sits next to Jack for the duration of the meeting, but Ben’s on his other side so he can’t quite silently address anything that’s happened with Jack without Ben noticing. Still, their knees touch just lightly for almost all of the time Mary’s talking at them, and Sammy’s hyper-aware of keeping his knee just perfectly in position for that to keep happening.

Jack hugs him goodnight when the meeting is over, and he hugs Ben, too before Katie grabs him and they head out the building. Jack turns to wave, and Sammy barely gets a hand up before he’s gone.

When he and Ben leave the building five minutes later, Sammy lets Ben jabber at him about how well it works when he jumps up on Tim’s shoulders three separate times in the show but Tim’s starting to complain about back pain so they’re not going to do it again until opening night.

A buzz from Sammy’s phone interrupts Ben’s tangent about the chiropractor Troy recommended for Tim, and Sammy almost takes Ben’s head off as he pulls his arm away from Ben’s shoulder to get his phone out of his pocket.

“Ow!” Ben whines but Sammy’s paying no attention because the text is, in fact, from Jack.

_Hey sorry if any of that was too much. lily’s already calling me a tryhard and asking if I’ve ever heard of subtlety. It was still really nice, though. See you Monday?_

Sammy is by no means an expert in reading people, but he knows that the question mark has nothing to do with Monday’s rehearsal.

Which is why it’s so much easier than he expects to text Jack back and tell him _it’s all good. It was really nice for me, too. See you Monday_ _J_

“What’s so important on your phone you needed to try to scalp me?” Ben swats at Sammy’s hands but Sammy holds the phone up and well out of reach of Ben’s grabby-hands. “Oh, why am I even asking? I know it’s Jack.”

“Shut up,” Sammy says automatically, switching his phone to his left pocket so it’ll be more easily accessible and he can still put his right arm around Ben. It’s nearly November so it’s colder out than usual, and Ben doesn’t have a jacket even though Sammy told him three times this morning that he needed one.

“What did he _say_?” Ben pesters, and Sammy thinks about opening his mouth to answer.

The second he gives what happened in the sound booth any serious thought, his brain immediately short-circuits. He’d just slow-danced with Jack fucking Wright to a song that had the lyric _we were not born in sin_ in the first verse.

Sammy’s mouth dries up completely and he can’t get any words out at all, not even a deflection. Ben gazes up at him in concern when he doesn’t immediately answer, and he reaches a hand up to Sammy’s forehead to press slightly against it.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks, concerned instead of his previous gentle mocking tone. “You look like you’re gonna cry. Oh, shit, is this about Jack? Do I need to go like, challenge him to a duel or something?”

“No,” Sammy manages to get out in a strangled voice. “You’d lose, anyway. No, I just – I’m just…. _happy_.”

“You’re on the verge of tears….because you’re happy?” Ben’s still dubious, even though a smile is beginning to form on the corners of his lips. “Is your big gay crush on Jack Wright that powerful?”

“I guess,” Sammy admits, both to Ben and himself. Ben makes a pleased _aww_ sound as he wraps his arms around Sammy’s side.

“I’m happy too, then,” Ben says, muffled into Sammy’s shoulder. Sammy pulls Ben in the direction of their apartment as Ben adds “So like, when the fuck are you gonna ask him out?”

For the first time, Sammy can see a world in which he can absolutely do that. With a lot of fear and anxiety and an overwhelming urge to explode – but he knows that he has the capability to get through it, and if he does, then Jack will say yes.

Still, he sort of hopes Jack asks first.


	4. Chapter Four

Preparations for rehearsal on Monday are absolutely frenzied with trying to get everything ready for the technical blocking of the show. Sammy knows that Ben’s been dreading it all weekend, but he’s actually kind of looking forward to it – he’s not the one onstage, after all, and this is more of a rehearsal for him, Jack, and the two girls doing lighting than anything else after being on their own for most of the duration of rehearsals so far.

Sammy’s not thrilled about the attention when it comes to the potential for visibly fucking up, but at least Mary has a good head under pressure and isn’t going to snap at anyone. When Sammy arrives at rehearsal, she’s directing everyone with an iron fist as to how to prepare for the start of the evening.

“Everyone, _please_ get your costumes on now while we finalize the set pieces,” Mary calls through the black box. Sammy makes his way up alone in the sound booth to watch the chaos below and get the board set up, leaving Ben to put on his frilly Algernon costume.

Jack had already programmed all the cues into the board in the last week with some help from Sammy, and since the last time Sammy’s been here, Jack’s added messy post-it notes labeling everything. He must’ve come in over the weekend to do that.  

Sammy takes a pen out of his bag to fix a couple of the notes to be more legible so he won’t be confused later in a time-crunch scenario, and of course that’s when Jack opens the door.

“Oh, shit, sorry, my handwriting’s atrocious,” Jack says and Sammy quickly stands up from where he’s been bent over the board, turning around to greet him. Jack’s smiling but a little skittishly, and he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment as he sets his messenger bag down. “I’ll fix anything you can’t read.”

“I can read them,” Sammy assures him, “I just want to make sure I don’t have to give it any thought once rehearsal starts. I don’t want to stress Mary out more by getting confused over which cue is which.”

“Sorry,” Jack says again, and grabs a pen of his own out of his bag. He’s really conscious of what he perceives as flaws, Sammy’s noticed, and hopefully he can help convince him that messy handwriting is the least of Sammy’s worries. “Here, pass me a couple, I’ll fix them.”

They work quietly for a second, and Sammy looks over Jack’s shoulder to see him writing painstakingly slowly to get the letters even. Warm pressure, more pleasant than anything, sits in Sammy’s chest as he watches.

“Yeah, my handwriting is _really_ that bad,” Jack winces when he notices Sammy looking. “I was doing these in a rush yesterday, otherwise I would’ve taken the time then.”

“You could’ve asked me to come in and help,” Sammy says, feeling a little unsure as to why Jack didn’t. He’s not hurt by it or anything, but he hopes Jack knows that he would’ve come if he had called.

“Oh, I know, I only had an hour or so,” Jack says, and his shoulder bumps against Sammy’s in a way that could have been deniably accidental, but Sammy knows was on purpose and meant to be a reassurance. “I would’ve called you if it had been a big job.”

“We could’ve done it last week, too,” Sammy adds, and then because he feels a sudden surge of guilt, he asks, “Is everything with the sound gonna be alright? I mean – we spent so much time up here talking instead of working, I didn’t think it would be a problem because you didn’t say anything, but we honestly talked like every night, so if there’s anything –”

“Sammy,” Jack cuts him off, and then his hand is suddenly on Sammy’s chin, pulling his head in Jack’s direction. Sammy’s heart starts to thump, but the nerves stop when they make eye contact and Jack lets him go, his green eyes soft and a little pleased. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Worry is what I _do_ ,” Sammy says, because Jack really should know that going forward. Wherever forward happens to be, which is something Sammy has too much to do right now to think about at this current moment in time.

“Well, don’t worry about this,” Jack says, and then bites his lip, looking at the floor for a second before meeting Sammy’s eyes again, somewhat apprehensive. Slowly, he adds, “Besides. I sort of didn’t…. _need_ all the rehearsal nights for sound stuff.”

Sammy frowns, not quite understanding what Jack’s getting at even though his tone makes it sound like an admission of guilt. “What do you mean?”

“Like I said when we started…it’s not exactly a huge job, especially when Mary’s so hands-on,” Jack says, and he’s looking through the window at Mary directing the cast’s costume traffic now instead of at Sammy. “Actually, I wasn’t planning on coming to many rehearsals at all to start, just enough to get an idea of what needed doing and then I’d finish up all the cues from home, and only come in for the last couple weeks full-time.”

Sammy opens his mouth, a question forming even though he’s almost certain he already knows the answer, and that answer half terrifies and half exhilarates him. Still, he’s the master of doubting himself, so he does feel his mouth dry up when he begins, “Then why….”

Jack turns to him, grinning, and Sammy knows he’ll never get tired of Jack’s eyes crinkling around the edges like that, embarrassed and pleased yet far too smooth all at once.

“You said you were gonna be here every single night,” Jack shrugs like people do that kind of thing for Sammy every day. “I knew you’d always be here, so – I wanted to keep you company.”

“ _Oh_.” Warmth spreads through Sammy’s entire body, but any sort of terror he’d been experiencing begins to decrease significantly. It was, quite honestly, the answer he had expected – and yet everything seems so much less frightening when it’s happening outside of Sammy’s head. “That’s –”

“Weird, according to Lily,” Jack fills in with a sheepish shake of his head. He cracks his knuckles, seemingly to have something to do with his hands. “Believe me, I know.”

“ _Sweet_ ,” Sammy fills in instead, and reaches across the space between them, intending to pat Jack’s arm.

Instead, without consulting his brain, his hand takes Jack’s hand and squeezes tightly. Sammy can’t look Jack in the eye, but it turns out he doesn’t have to in order to know what Jack’s thinking, because Jack doesn’t let go.

Jack slots their fingers together and squeezes back.

Sammy takes a moment to consider what would happen if he leaned in to kiss him.

“Everyone ready?”

Sammy hears Mary’s voice below, and knows they have to begin, but he holds Jack’s hand for another five seconds before reluctantly letting go, wishing they would’ve had just one more minute of quiet.

Still, he knows that if he’d managed to work up the courage to kiss Jack, he probably would’ve been much worse off since he has to be extremely functional and put together for the next three hours. Which is definitely _not_ going to be his mental state when he actually kisses Jack.

Rehearsal is as long and grueling as Sammy expected and Ben warned. Mary’s paying Sammy and Jack most of her attention so they can’t really talk meaningfully again for the rest of the night. All they can really do is smile and blush and make faces when the actors do something dumb.

Jack hugs him goodbye at the end of the night, like he always does now, and they squeeze hands again before Jack goes to find Katie. They don’t kiss, even though Sammy thinks about it again.

Sammy sits in the sound booth alone for at least two minutes after that, trying to breathe and overcome with the feeling that if he doesn’t take action soon he’s going to die of dehydration.

“Hey,” Ben appears in the doorway, back in his beanie and t-shirt rather than the rather fancy waistcoat he wears onstage. “I’ve been trying to find you! Is Jack still here?”

“No,” Sammy says, and then before he can stop himself, spills out, “Ben, I think I’m in love with him.”

He’s expecting some light mockery at the very least, but Ben’s smile turns from his typical full-force beam into something much gentler. He crosses the room to hug Sammy, resting his chin on Sammy’s head which can only happen when Sammy’s sitting and Ben’s not.

“I know that, buddy, where have you been for the last two months?” Ben’s words could be teasing but his voice is so careful and heavy with emotion that it doesn’t sound like that at all. It sounds like comfort.

“I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna,” Sammy swallows, the words hard to get out but he wants it badly enough and knows saying it has to be the first step, “I’m gonna tell him. I’ll tell him once we’re done with the show. I need to keep seeing him every day, I need –”

“You need to say _Jack, I think you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met, after Ben of course, and I’d like to make you dinner sometime, probably the pork chops Ben likes so much, and Ben won’t be there but I’ll give him the leftovers.”_

“Something along those lines,” Sammy mumbles into Ben’s shoulder, knowing perfectly well that he might even say those exact words when he searches for something to say to Jack’s face.

Ben hugs him even tighter, and doesn’t let go until Sammy does.

* * *

 

Sammy doesn’t bring anything romantic up to Jack in the next week because rehearsals are far too busy and frantic for that. Somehow, one of the actors named Pete that Sammy had never liked spills Ranch dressing on his costume and Mary spends two days absolutely frothing at the mouth over it, so no one wants to put her any more on edge than she already is.

The show’s set to open Thursday evening at seven – Betty’s driving up the three hours and back in the same night so as to see the show but not miss any work, and Ben’s getting anxious about making sure everything is perfect for his mom, which he always does. They’re taking her out to an early dinner beforehand, and Ben’s obsessing over the details.

Nothing is more important to Ben than making his mom happy.

Therefore, Sammy notices after Tuesday’s dress rehearsal, Ben brushes Emily off for quite possibly the first time.

Sammy’s wandering over in Ben and Emily’s direction where they’re standing talking next to the staircase after the team meeting – Jack and Katie already left for the night – when he hears Ben say, high-pitched and anxious, “Um, not right now? I have too much to do and, uh– I’ve gotta go get this costume off, so – I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ben doesn’t say it happily, more like he dreads the experience, and he doesn’t notice Sammy approaching as he tears off in the other direction, messing up the gel in his hair as he walks.

“Hey,” Sammy approaches Emily anyway, who has a pronounced, almost crestfallen frown on her fae as she gazes at Ben’s retreating back. She shifts to smile up at Sammy nonetheless, a little exhausted but as pleasant as ever. “Don’t mind him. Mom’s coming up tomorrow. He always tries to make things perfect for her and it’s eating at him right now. He’s snapped at me twice today, so try not to be offended.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Emily pats Sammy’s elbow, though she still looks a little upset. “We’re all stressed right now, I understand. I just…”

“What?” Sammy asks, nudging her shoulder when she sighs. He hasn’t talked to Emily much but he feels like he knows her at least a little bit based on the long-winded stories Ben tells about the funniest things Emily did that day. “Ben thinks you’re amazing, Emily. I’m sure he’ll apologize tomorrow. Hell, I’ll _make him_ apologize tomorrow.”

“Oh, Sammy, you don’t have to do that,” Emily sighs again, this time more fond at Sammy than annoyed at Ben, which Sammy supposes is a step in the right direction. “I just – I mean, I’m just wondering….”

“What?”

“If Benny’s ever planning on asking me on a date,” Emily says, shrugging her shoulders with a bit of defeat. “I’ve tried to ask him out three times and I don’t think he’s realized that’s what I’m doing. He just always says something about plans with you, or cuts me off halfway through with a tangent about raccoons –”

“He hates raccoons so much, I don’t understand,” Sammy shakes his head, but then clears his throat as he says with a bit more purpose, “Emily, Ben _absolutely_ wants to ask you out. You just make him very anxious because….well, he’s never dated a girl before.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Emily’s eyes widen. “Only –”

“Yeah,” Sammy says, and immediately knows Emily isn’t going to misinterpret or take advantage of that fact if the way she puts a hand on her heart is anything to go by. “Just – go a little easy on him, okay? He has no idea what he’s doing.”

“Well, _I’ll_ ask him out then,” Emily says, a sudden fierce glint in her eye that wasn’t there before. “Without any ambiguity. I thought maybe the ambiguity would help if he wasn’t sure about me but – I guess Ben might need something a little more direct.”

“Ben is very, very sure,” Sammy reassures her. “Ben is _always_ sure. And he’s head over heels for you, I guarantee.”

Emily’s cheeks flush as she scuffs a tennis shoe against the floor. “Really?” Her voice is incredibly fond, which is the only way anyone Ben dates is allowed to sound when they talk about him as far as Sammy’s concerned.

“Really,” Sammy promises, and Emily grins in response, a bright Ben Arnold-patented beam, and thanks Sammy profusely before she goes to take her own costume off for the evening.

Sammy’s certain she’ll more than take care of the situation. She seems a bit like Ben – completely fearless in the face of almost anything.

If only he could say the same for himself.

* * *

 

It’s opening night, Sammy’s had to talk Ben down from three separate ledges in the course of the day and Betty had to talk him down twice at dinner, but somehow the two of them make it to the theatre with minutes to spare before Mary’s team meeting.

Sammy hangs in the back next to Ben since they were almost late, so he doesn’t see Jack right away and figures they’ll just meet up in the sound booth. Mary dismisses them to their places to prepare for audience arrival, and Sammy hugs Ben tight enough to break bones before he heads out of the black box and toward the booth.

Jack’s already inside, wearing black jeans and a black button down, his hair combed back neatly for a change. His freckles seem more pronounced than usual, and his dimples certainly are when he grins at Sammy.

Sammy needs to ask Jack out right now or he might die.

“Hey, you ready?” Jack asks brightly, clearly not realizing how little oxygen is getting into Sammy’s lungs right now.

“Yeah,” Sammy manages to get out, and then notices that even though the sound booth is otherwise perfectly pristine, there are two bouquets of flowers in Jack’s usual chair, one pink and one yellow.  They make him unaccountably anxious as they sit there unobtrusively. “Um, who are the flowers for?”

“The pink ones are for Katie,” Jack explains and good, thank God, that makes sense. That’s basically his sister-in-law, which makes complete and total sense. There’s still the yellow bouquet though, and Sammy thinks he might never recover if those are for him. “And I thought….and if this is weird, you can tell me but….maybe the yellow ones could be for Ben?”

Jack looks a little unsure, and Sammy’s heart falters in his chest.

Somehow, the awkward blush on Jack’s face as he looks between the yellow flowers and Sammy is far more romantic than anything else Sammy could’ve pictured. Any guy could bring him flowers – not that anyone ever _had,_ but that was beside the point. The point is that Sammy honestly can’t think of any other guy in the world who would bring flowers for Sammy’s best friend.

Sammy’s certainty about Jack hasn’t been surface level for a long time, but this more than anything solidifies his clarity in a bone-deep sort of way – Jack is absolutely the guy for him.

“I mean, they can be from you, if you wanted to give him something, I just –” Jack runs a hand through his hair, messing it up suitably. “I just thought it’d be nice?”

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met,” Sammy says because he can’t help himself, and Jack chuckles incredulously, stepping back from Sammy a little which is a shame because Sammy wants him to step closer.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far –”

“Ben will melt on the spot if you go down and give him those after the show,” Sammy tells him, breathless though he’s trying not to be. “He’ll tell everyone he knows. He’ll introduce you to Mom as his new best friend, probably.”

“Good to know,” Jack’s voice gets higher, maybe from nerves at the idea, as he pulls at his hair some more. God, he’s so cute when he does that. It makes Sammy want to mess with his hair, too – but not yet, not yet, they have a show to do tonight.

Still, Sammy can’t help but ask, while he has the complete courage to do so, taking a deep breath, “When’s your next rugby match?”

Jack’s awkward blush turns to a confused frown, not upset but just a little unsure. “When did I tell you that I played rugby?”

“You didn’t, Lily did,” Sammy explains and that just makes Jack’s eyes grow wider and his shoulders hunch inward with a sudden fear present. “Don’t worry, it’s fine, she just – when do you play again? Ben and I would really like to come and watch.”

“I – really?” Jack sounds almost surprised, but it’s clearly pleasantly so if the lessening tension in his arms and shoulders is anything to go by. He bites his lip as if expecting Sammy to take the question back any second.

“Yeah,” Sammy says, not nervous at all for a change. “We won’t bring flowers, since that’s not something you do for rugby, obviously, but – it’d be really fun to see you play.”

“Um, okay,” Jack laughs, scuffing one of his shoes against the floor, not quite looking at Sammy even though his smile is barely contained. “Next Saturday? 10 o’clock at Lawrence Park?”

“We’ll be there,” Sammy promises and Jack turns a new, interesting shade of red.

He remembers suddenly what Emily said about ambiguity, though, and knows that he hasn’t done enough yet. Steeling himself, he opens his mouth yet again.

“Also, um,” Sammy’s mouth goes dry and Jack looks back up at him, wide-eyed but less anxious, and Sammy thinks he might be less anxious too but he can’t analyze why that might be. “A date. I mean – I’d like to take you out on a date so – do you want – I’m not sure how –”

“Yes,” Jack says quickly and Sammy’s so relieved that Jack’s taken that pity on him and didn’t make him finish. Jack’s smiling too, a full-force beam that Sammy doesn’t think he’s ever seen on Jack’s face before. “Obviously, yes. I was going to ask you on closing night but – uh – I was thinking dinner, on Sunday? To celebrate getting through the show, but also – very much a date.”

“Yes,” Sammy feels a rush of giddy energy, suddenly relieved and relaxed and wondering why the hell he hadn’t done this two weeks ago. “Yes, absolutely.”

“Cool,” Jack’s blush doesn’t go away, and his shoulders fold a bit inward as he looks from Sammy to the floor and back again. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you before, I just thought – I’d already been _so_ forward, I really didn’t want to scare you off if you, if you weren’t sure about me –”

“I’m sure, I just – I just wasn’t sure if you – it doesn’t matter,” Sammy can’t help but sigh in relief, very nearly giggling with the release of tension. Jack starts to laugh too, and any time they look at each in the eye makes Sammy feel like he’s floating, so he can’t do it for too long or he’ll just float away. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out since we met.”

“Um – that’s – I want to talk about that but we really – sound cues,” Jack smiles sheepishly and gestures to the board. “Let’s – let’s test those, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sammy agrees, suddenly the happiest he’s ever been about sound cues in his life.

Opening night goes on without a hitch. Sammy doesn’t miss any of his cues, and neither does Jack. Mary doesn’t kill or castrate Pete, or any of the other cast or crew members. There’s a standing ovation at the end, and Sammy thinks everyone is clapping extra hard for Ben, who of course had been his usual phenomenal self.

When they go downstairs and manage to wade through the crowd, Jack gives Ben the yellow flowers. Ben tears up when he hugs Jack. Sammy might also start to tear up but he manages to hide that particular fact. 

Sammy’s the one who introduces Jack to Betty, not Ben, and he says “…my…my _friend_ ,” in a halting voice that Betty and Jack clearly both understand as something a little more than that. Betty looks proud of him, and Jack looks –

Jack looks happy, and so handsome, and honestly sort of perfect. Sammy’s usual state of being when he has a date is perpetually biting his nails and regretting his life choices, but now, with Jack, Sunday can’t come fast enough.  

* * *

 

There’s a slight hitch in how Sammy is actively hinging his entire mental state on Sunday, a hitch he’d forgotten about entirely called _there’s a cast party on Saturday Night._

More than a cast party, really. Cast, crew, everyone’s significant others, various friends, and honestly most of the theatre department from what Sammy gleaned from Ben’s vague, enthusiastic explanation.

Sammy doesn’t _do_ parties, never has.  Noise, large crowds, and drunken college students are three of Sammy’s least favorite things. And even though Ben’s personality is more agreeable to the party atmosphere, Ben is usually perfectly content to stay home with Sammy.

The cast party is obviously different though, since it’s with the theatre department. That means none of the things Ben hates about parties – football players, sorority girls, feeling isolated and adrift – are present, and he can have fun with his friends.

So Sammy will brave the party for Ben.

Plus, when they were leaving the theatre building an hour ago, Jack had turned to Sammy and said _hey, I’ll see you at Tim’s place, right?_ and obviously Sammy said yes in an instant without even considering it because of the way he knew Jack would grin and duck his head and mess with his hair in the really cute way that Sammy likes.

Thankfully, Tim only lives a couple buildings over from Sammy and Ben, so it doesn’t take long for him and Ben to change and head over. It also won’t take long if Sammy wants to make an escape around midnight if the party is too much to deal with.  

Which it probably will be. Tim buzzes them up and lets them in, and his apartment is far too small for the probably three dozen to four dozen theatre nerds dispersed throughout it. The cast of the play was pretty small, and Sammy barely even sees any one he recognizes, so he assumes this just must be everyone’s friends and friends of friends.

Nightmare scenario, in other words.

“Do you want drinks?” Tim has to shout over the combination of the Drake music playing and from someone’s phone and the dull rush of noise of people talking. Sammy doesn’t, but Ben nods rapidly and follows Tim toward the bears on the counter, tugging Sammy along with him.

Sammy doesn’t take a disgusting Corona like Ben does, thank you very much. He figures that even though he’ll feel more awkward sober, it’s better to watch out for Ben this way anyway.

“Hey, Dusty,” Ben hangs over the back of one of the chairs to start a conversation with a guy Sammy’s never seen before in his life. Sammy stands and listens to some catching up that has something to do with a rock band playing more gigs. He loves Ben, but he wishes he was somewhere else.

“Hey, Sammy,” Troy, thank God, appears at Sammy’s shoulder. Finally a friendly face in a sea of basically no one who Sammy can put a face to a name. “How’s it going? You look like you swallowed a lemon – c’mon, this is supposed to be a celebration!”

“Parties aren’t my thing,” Sammy admits, eyes continually searching the crowd for Jack, or even Katie so that he could ask her if Jack was there and if not, when he would be.  

“You waiting for somebody?” Troy asks when he notices, and Sammy feels a little guilty for not paying him much attention but not enough to stop.

“Just looking for Jack,” Sammy tells him, figuring he might as well own up. “Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, like five minutes ago, over by the TV?” Troy says, pointing to the entryway between the kitchen where they are and the living room. It’s obscured by a partial wall and too many people, but it makes Sammy’s chest loosen up in relief.

“Um, do you mind –” Sammy winces in preparation for getting made fun of but Troy just blinks down at him genially. “Can you watch Ben while I’m gone? Make sure he doesn’t get into trouble?”

“Hey!” Ben breaks off from his conversation to turn to Sammy, glaring. “I can take care of myself! Also, where are you going? To talk to your _boyfriend_?”

Ben’s too smug, and Sammy steps on his foot. Not too hard, but hard enough so that Ben knows to shut up.

Troy guffaws, a hand over his mouth. “Is that what Jack is?”

“No,” Sammy glares at Ben, but his gaze softens without him meaning it to when he turns back to Troy. “I mean, um. Possibly. In the future. Maybe.”

“Well, I think you’d make a very handsome couple,” Troy says with complete geniality. God, he’s too polite to be real.

“Be careful! Use protection!” Ben grins with too much fervor, and Sammy shoves his shoulder before he heads out of the room. Despite his vague annoyance with Ben’s general everything, he’s a bit anxious about leaving Ben behind. Still, he knows that Ben has plenty of friends here who will make sure nothing happens to him.

At first glance at the living room, Sammy’s uncertain about Troy actually seeing Jack, since Sammy’s sure he isn’t by the TV. Though it doesn’t take him long after that to notice Jack’s tall frame in the opposite corner, near the door, talking to a girl that Sammy doesn’t recognize.

Jack notices him before Sammy is within talking distance, and his eyes light up overtop the girl’s head. He leans down and says something, and whatever it is makes her turn around with a mildly disappointed face. She leaves, breezing past Sammy with a frown.

“Sorry,” Jack ducks his head, blushing when Sammy gets closer. “You’d think girls in the theatre department would be used to gay guys, but –”

“I bet you get hit on all the time,” Sammy finds himself teasing. He’s got a weird feeling in his chest that might be jealousy – but it’s much more than he _isn’t_ jealous where he would’ve been a week ago. Because he’s going out to dinner with Jack tomorrow and no one else is. He’s actually, if he’s honest with himself, a little thrilled that maybe he’d have the right to be jealous now, even though he isn’t.

Pete Meyers and a guy he doesn’t know try to skirt past him into the living room, and Sammy ends up stepping closer to Jack as a result. They’re both half-leaning against a wall, their sides almost but not quite touching.

“I try to avoid girls hitting on me at all costs, it’s why I don’t go out as much as I could,” Jack laughs, clearly a little awkward. After Sammy had badly asked Jack out, they’d basically decided without much conversation that they weren’t gonna talk in-depth about their relationship until after they’d made it through the play, but –

Well, now the play is over, and they’re both here.

“Do you like parties?” Sammy asks, hoping Jack has similar feelings about the party atmosphere as he does, but actually not caring much about the answer. Sammy could learn to enjoy parties if he was going to parties with Jack.

Jack shrugs noncommittally. “Depends on the party, I guess. This one’s sort of awkward because everyone else knows each other but I barely know anybody.”

“Right?” Sammy feels a sweep of relief. “Usually Ben and I know all of the same people so I have him for an ally, but it feels like he knows every single person here and I can’t even retain their names when he tells me.”

Jack laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges. “Where is Ben? Did you honestly leave him alone? What about the anaphylactic shock?”

“I left him with Troy, so he’s in good hands,” Sammy assures him and Jack nods. Troy’s very reliable – a good choice for Ben-watching. He’ll take his duty seriously. “Besides, I saw Emily around here somewhere and maybe tonight, she’ll finally make her extremely romantic intentions known.”

“Really?” Jack grins, eyes traveling across the room, but Emily isn’t anywhere to be found in the immediate vicinity. Sammy hopes she’s located Ben. “That’s very exciting. Think he’ll say yes?”

“The only way he wouldn’t is if he faints from an overload of emotion,” Sammy jokes, and Jack laughs. Jack always laughs at everything Sammy says, even when Sammy thinks it’s not funny. “Do you want to get a drink or –”

A girl Sammy doesn’t recognize suddenly starts shrieking from next to the hallway leading into the back bedrooms, and though not everyone turns to listen to her, a fair few people do. Including Sammy and Jack, who are only a few feet away.

“Oh my God, I’m pretty sure Tim Jensen is hooking up with Mary in the bathroom!” The girl gasps out and the room starts to erupt with laughter and whispers of surprise.

“Wow,” Jack says, a little bemused when he turns to Sammy. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Mary’s a professional, she was probably waiting to make her move ‘til she wasn’t his director,” Sammy says, though he hadn’t really noticed anything going on there either. “Still a little surprising, though.”

“I mean, we were sort of….distracted,” Jack points out, and even in the dimly lit room Sammy can see him flush red. “I mean – we were obviously very preoccupied with Ben and Emily.”

“Right,” Sammy agrees, a smile forming, recognizing it for the joke it is. “Ben and Emily. And nothing else.”

Jack grins, and his eyes crinkle. He suggests getting drinks again, but the two of them have a hell of a time circumventing all of the bodies in the room to get back toward the kitchen. Ben’s not there anymore and neither is Troy, but it seems like another dozen people have arrived. How big is the fucking theatre department and how does Sammy barely know anyone in it?

It’s even noisier in the kitchen, and after the third time Sammy has to go _“What? What?”_ to anything Jack says, he decides _fuck it._

“Do you want –” Sammy leans closer to Jack’s ear. God, his lips are close enough that they could touch Jack with little to no effort on his part. “Do you want to go to my place? I’m not far from here.”

He leans away, catching a glimpse Jack’s fleeting but huge smile, anxious and a little shocked, but also pleased. Which might be how Sammy’s also feeling about the fact that he’s just invited Jack to come home with him without vomiting on anyone’s shoes.

“Yeah,” Jack says, sounding almost excited. Well, maybe not almost. Maybe he’s just excited, no caveat. “Yeah, let’s do that. Will Ben be okay without you?”

Sammy, somewhat surprisingly, feels okay leaving Ben here. Ben has Troy and Emily, and Mary and Tim if they stop hooking up in the bathroom any time soon. Katie’s here, too, and Reagan, and plenty of people Sammy knows care about Ben.

“He’ll be fine,” Sammy says, fully believing it. “And I’ll be fine, too. But can we go find him first? I wanna make sure he’s not looking for me later.”

Sammy, without consulting his brain, grabs Jack’s hand so as not to lose him in the crowd. That’s obviously the only reason – well, no, it’s really not, but if anyone _asks_ , it’s the only reason. Jack seems pleased about it, if his smile and the way he fully knots their fingers together is anything to go by.

Ben’s not in the living room, even though Troy is there talking to Reagan. He’s also not in the hallway or either of the bedrooms even though a promiscuous couple is definitely locked in one of them. Sammy doesn’t check the bathroom, because he hasn’t seen Mary and Tim emerge yet.

“There’s a patio,” Jack leans over to say into Sammy’s ear. “I bet he’s out there – I haven’t seen Emily either, so maybe they went someplace quieter to talk?”

Sammy nods, figuring he’s probably right. He lets Jack tug him back through the crowd to get to the back door, which is already half-open. Jack pulls Sammy through to the small cement porch and tiny yard outside. There’s a little vegetable patch on one of the three available feet of space that makes Sammy rather impressed with Tim –

But Sammy can’t focus on that for long because on the porch a few feet away, there’s a couple making out.

A couple – and one of them, the one facing away from him, is Ben. Sammy can tell from the curly hair sticking up in the back.

And he’s kissing Emily.

Sammy and Jack look at each other, Sammy biting his lip to keep from saying anything, as Ben and Emily continue to kiss and not notice that they’ve been somewhat interrupted. Jack purses his lips together, clearly trying to stop from laughing.

Sammy delicately clears his throat.

Ben practically springs backwards, clearly recognizing exactly who’s behind him. Emily, on the other hand, just looks up with a bemused and slightly embarrassed look in her eye.

“Hi, Sammy,” Emily smooths her hair back. “Jack.”

“Don’t say anything,” Ben says before Sammy can get a word out. He’s practically turned purple, and Sammy can’t help but smile down at him. One might say in a shit-eating sort of way. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“This all seems very sweet,” Sammy tells him. Ben rolls his eyes so hard they’re probably gonna hurt later. “I was just coming to say I was going home, and to ask someone to keep an eye on you – so, Emily, if you wouldn’t mind…”

“I think I can swing that,” Emily says, straight-faced with a light voice. Sammy can tell she’s trying not to sound too enthused, but she so clearly is.

“You’re going home?” Ben’s eyes travel between Sammy and Jack, and then their hands that are still linked. Shit. Ben suddenly looks much more relaxed, and he perhaps also has a shit-eating grin of his own as he looks back at Sammy. “Together?”

“Don’t say anything,” Sammy warns, even though his laugh is threatening to give him away. “I don’t want to hear it!”

“See you later, Sammy,” Emily looks pointedly toward the door, eyes sparkling with amusement, and Sammy salutes her as he leaves, making Ben groan and Jack laugh.

He and Jack don’t stop to say goodbye to anyone else, though Jack texts Katie to let her know he’s leaving. Jack texts with one hand as they make their way back to the front door of Tim’s building, because his other hand is still intertwined with Sammy’s.

“I’m just a couple blocks down,” Sammy nods toward his building, which is within eyesight.

“Cool,” Jack says as they start to walk together, their enjoined hands locked between them and swinging just slightly.

Sammy’s never held hands with a guy to walk down the street. Under the seats in movie theatres, a second or two under the table at dinner, Ben when he’s afraid of a horror movie, but the list ends there.

Sammy would be afraid, except it’s nearly eleven, the streets aren’t busy at all, plus they live in a generally liberal college town, not to mention it’s a short walk –

And it’s Jack, and Jack makes Sammy feel safe.

“Is this alright?” Jack squeezes his hand as if he’s reading Sammy’s mind.

“More than,” Sammy says, squeezing back.

Sammy makes inane small talk about his apartment building as they approach, what floor he’s on, why he and Ben decided to share a one-room, the amount of bananas in their freezer right now, anything to keep his mind off of how high-strung he’s getting.

“It’s nice,” Jack says when Sammy finally manages to unlock his door with a shaking hand. He feels a bit self-conscious, since the apartment hasn’t exactly been cleaned lately with as busy as he’s been and as averse to vacuuming as Ben is. “Is the Blair Witch Project poster yours or Ben’s?”

“Ben’s,” Sammy says immediately, giving the poster above the TV a disdainful glare. Suddenly, he wishes the poster was his.

“He’s got good taste,” Jack grins, but then nudges Sammy with his hip. “I’m sure you do, too.”

Sammy rolls one of his shoulders back, his stomach hurting all of a sudden. Probably nerves. “Do you want something to eat? We basically just have bananas since we haven’t gone shopping recently. Um – I’d offer you a beer, but it was Ben’s turn to pick last time so it’s Miller Lite.”

“Ew,” Jack wrinkles his nose and Sammy laughs. “I take back what I said about good taste.”

“Soda?” Sammy asks, busying himself by moving to stare into the fridge. “It’s just Sprite, but –”

Jack nods, and Sammy passes him one as he opens one for himself. He gestures for Jack to sit at one of the barstools he and Ben bought at Ikea, and sits in the one next to Jack instead of the one furthest away because he’s working on this bravery thing.

“So,” Jack sets his can down, and though his body turns slightly toward Sammy, his eyes remain looking at the countertop. “Just out of curiosity – did you have, like, any particular…. _motivation_ in asking me to come over?”

Sammy blinks at him a few times, heart in his throat, knowing what Jack’s getting at. It doesn’t seem like Jack’s judging regardless of Sammy’s answer; his voice is unsure rather than actually worried or concerned.

“Like….did you want to, you know….hook up,” Jack messes with his hair even more than usual, making it stick up from multiple angles. There’s a red flush on the back of his neck that Sammy can see all too clearly.

“Oh, uh – no?” Sammy says, worrying whether or not that’s why Jack said yes or if that’s his expectation. “I just – um – I’m not _against_ that or anything but it was more – you’ve never been here before. We’ve never really hung out, outside of the show. I mean, if you want to hook up, we can, but it wasn’t –”

“No, no,” Jack says quickly, putting a hand out to touch Sammy’s shoulder very gently. “I just – I wasn’t asking because I wanted to, I just thought you might want – I mean, I also don’t _not_ want to –”

Jack breaks off laughing, clearly a little jittery, and Sammy joins in because he can feel the same awkwardness, and hopefully it’s seeping away now. There’s a healthy dose of relief that Jack’s flying just as blind as he is here.

“So there’s no expectation of that, from either of us,” Jack concludes with a sheepish smile, and Sammy nods in agreement. “Alright, so – maybe we could take things slow? I mean, if that’s alright with you.”

“More than alright.” Sammy, as much as he theoretically absolutely wants to hook up with Jack, feels a great deal of tension melt away with the words. Sex is a lot of pressure, and Sammy’s already feeling enough of that tonight. “Did you see how long it took me to ask you out? _Slow_ is really all I’m capable of doing.”

“I just wanna, you know, do this right,” Jack says, and his hand moves from Sammy’s shoulder down his arm, to squeeze his hand once more. “I just – I want this to be really good.”

“Me too,” Sammy says breathlessly, and then he has to duck away because Jack’s bright green eyes are too much to take all at once like that. He stands up, moving back toward the fridge. “Um, I do have instant popcorn? If you wanna watch a movie?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, and he stands as well, taking another sip of his Sprite as he does. “That sounds good.”

Sammy usually isn’t a fan of the instant popcorn, certainly bought by Ben and not him, but he’s thanking Ben for it right now as he busies himself with getting the bag from the top shelf and getting it in the microwave. Jack moves to stand next to him, leaning against the island, his feet opposite Sammy’s.

“Do you want to pick a movie?” Sammy asks, gesturing toward the TV. “We’ve got Netflix, but also Ben’s DVD collection from home –”

“In just a second,” Jack says, so softly that Sammy barely hears him. He’s surprised when Jack takes a step closer to him, and suddenly they’re completely within each other’s space –

But he isn’t surprised in the slightest when Jack leans down. Sammy could lean up to meet him, it would be more than enough –

Sammy stands just slightly on his toes instead.

The kiss is slow to start, but doesn’t stay that way for long. It’s not necessarily heated, but it’s laced with a kind of energy that doesn’t die down. It just keeps going and going, making Sammy’s toes curl and taking his breath away bit by bit. Or maybe that’s Jack’s tongue. Who’s to say, honestly. He tastes like soda, but then again, Sammy probably does, too.

“Slow?” Sammy teases when they break apart, because he can’t help himself from saying _something_ to deflect from how hard his heart is hammering in his chest.

“I think we waited more than long enough for that,” Jack’s voice is a little hoarse and Sammy feels almost proud at being the one to make it that way. Jack leans in again to peck his lips, just for a second. “Your hands are shaking.”

Sammy hadn’t noticed that before now, but his hands are on Jack’s shoulders so of course Jack would. They’re tremoring, not badly, but enough that Jack would certainly feel it.

“I’m just….extremely nervous I’ll fuck this up somehow,” Sammy admits, willfully trying to keep his hands still so that Jack knows it’s just an automatic response and nothing to do with Sammy’s conscious thought.

“I should be the worried one,” Jack says, and Sammy becomes aware that Jack’s hands are on his hips when he squeezes, light but enough to make Sammy shiver. “I mean, you’ve only seen the version of me that’s put together. Once you see how messy I am…”

“I like messy,” Sammy promises him, moving to cup his hands around Jack’s neck, and goes on his toes again to peck Jack’s lips himself, because this bravery thing is coming a lot more naturally now. “So do you want to pick a movie?”

Sammy watches Jack rummage through Ben’s DVDs while he waits on the popcorn. He thinks about separating it into two bowls and having Jack use Ben’s, but then figures that he wants to touch Jack’s hands as much as possible and dumps it all into one large bowl.

“Dude, you have the Mothman Prophecies?” Jack beams at him from across the room rom where he’s sitting on the floor by the TV. “I’ve always wanted to see this!”

“I should’ve limited you to Netflix,” Sammy laughs as he shakes his head, hopefully making it clear that he’s teasing. “You and Ben definitely have the same obscure taste in cryptid-based cinema.”

“Should we wait for him to come home to watch it?” Jack asks, extremely genuine in an almost heart-wrenching sort of way, because no guy Sammy’s dated has ever taken Ben into account even a tiny bit.  They’d always dread Ben coming home and make that abundantly clear.

“You’re my favorite person ever,” Sammy tells him and Jack rubs the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile. “But he’s seen it like five times, so he’ll survive without another rewatch.”

Jack puts the movie in while Sammy grabs the large, soft blanket from his bedroom. He and Jack somewhat awkwardly settle on the couch underneath it, but it’s made easier by the fact that they giggle when they meet each other’s eyes.

“So, do we like cuddling while watching movies?” Jack asks, and God, that’s adorable that he’s referring the two of them as _we_ right now.

“Yeah,” Sammy leans toward Jack, laughing a little as Jack puts an arm around him. “I always have to be the big spoon with Ben, so I’m calling little spoon with you. Is it weird that I just told you that?”

“No,” Jack says without missing a beat, pulling Sammy closer to his chest. Jack’s so warm, and his chest and shoulder feel nice and solid beneath Sammy’s head, so it’s easy to melt against his side. “Just means I’ll for sure be the big spoon.”

Sammy feels warmth spread all over his body. Which also happens to be touching most of Jack’s body. Which is possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to Sammy in recent memory.

Well, no, kissing Jack was probably better. But that had only lasted a few seconds, and Sammy’s allowed to rest against Jack all night if he wants to.

The movie is as laughably awful as Sammy remembers, but he loves that Jack is clearly enraptured by it – at least for the first half.  During the second half, when they’ve sort of slid down to lay on the couch together instead of sit propped up against each other, Jack kisses the back of Sammy’s neck.

And then keeps kissing him.

“Slow?” Sammy manages to get out once he’s recovered a small part of his brain functioning.

“This is slow,” Jack murmurs against him a moment later. “I’m kissing you very slowly, aren’t I?”

“You’re a dork,” Sammy snorts, but Jack’s lips do feel _so_ nice. It’s putting his brain in a nice, drowsy, affectionate sort of place. “Do you wanna stay over? I’m not gonna get up again, and we’re going to dinner tomorrow anyway, you could just hang out here all day, if you don’t have any other plans –”

“My only plans were getting nervous for our date,” Sammy can feel Jack smile against Sammy’s collarbone. “So I think I can swing spending all day with you.”

“Will you sleep okay if we’re out here? I’m not sure when Ben will get home but we could move –”

“I’ll be fine,” Jack assures him, burying his face against Sammy’s neck. “If not, I’ll just watch you sleep like a total stalker.”

Sammy grins, turning just slightly to kiss Jack again, repaying the favor. It’s a goodnight kiss, Sammy knows even though he doesn’t articulate that out loud.

He hopes Jack sleeps okay here. He’d eaten not quite half the popcorn, but close enough. Tomorrow, Sammy will make him breakfast.

That’s his last thought before he drifts off to the dramatic music of early 2000s horror movies and the comforting feeling of Jack running his hand across Sammy’s wrist.

* * *

Sammy is peripherally aware of low voices talking. He can’t quite make out the words, but it doesn't bother him right now. It's just voices. There’s also a hand brushing through his hair, and that makes him feel warm and pleasant and much less interested in investigating whatever the voices could possibly be saying. He's content exactly where he is, and doesn't want to open his eyes. 

He only latches onto what’s going on when someone says his name.

“Well, Sammy’s not a super heavy sleeper, so –”

That’s Ben. That’s Ben, but that’s definitely not Ben’s hand in Sammy’s hair because Ben’s hand is tiny and Ben also would turn his nose up at touching Sammy’s hair for extended periods of time because Sammy’s hair is too oily and tangled for Ben Arnold's hands to deign to touch.

“He slept pretty well through the night –”

“Only because _you’re_ here.”

Oh, right.

Jack.

The contented feeling ramps up from 'mildly pleasant' to 'excruciating but in a wonderful way'.

Sammy blinks himself awake as his adrenaline spikes - _oh God, oh God, Jack spent the night with me last night and he's still here_ \- but when he turns into the couch to find Jack still half-curled around him and hand stroking the top of Sammy’s head, the hammering in his chest calms down in an instant.

Jack grins when he sees Sammy blinking up at him, all white teeth and dimples and green eyes. His freckles are close enough to touch. Sammy could touch, if he really wanted to. And he does. 

“Morning,” Jack says, sounding fully awake and cheerful. His hand stops moving through Sammy's hair, but doesn’t pull away at all. He just rests his fingertips on the top of Sammy's head. 

“Morning,” Sammy says, voice heavy with sleep. He coughs a couple times to clear his throat. He doesn’t want to sit up – he’s extremely comfortable with Jack cocooned around him – but his back hurts presumably from a night sharing the couch with a guy even bigger than he is. Plus he hasn’t seen Ben yet and he does, in fact, need to check and make sure his best friend is alive and well. 

Sammy props himself up on an elbow to look over Jack’s head and into the kitchen. Ben’s sitting, perched on the closest barstool, with messy hair and askew glasses but with a terrifyingly intense smile. “Did you come home last night?”

Ben's smile doesn’t lessen in size, but becomes much more embarrassed. Ben’s voice raises several degrees in pitch as he says “Well, Dad, that’s none of your business, but. No, not exactly.”

Ben sounds at once both overwhelmingly pleased with himself and also extremely reticent to share that joy with the world which – sure, Sammy gets that.

"And how is Emily this morning?" 

Yeah, he gets it, but that doesn't mean he can't  _mock._

"Fine," Ben's mouth tightens, but then when he looks Sammy in the eye, he quickly gives up the front. "She asked me to be her boyfriend and I said yes."

“Congratulations,” Sammy laughs, and lets his elbow go, sinking back down onto the couch. Jack’s still in exactly the same spot, and Sammy takes another second to look at him. His clothes are clearly rumpled with sleep, but Jack's eyes are clear when they smile down at Sammy.

“Congratulations to you, too,” Ben says in an equally satisfied voice. Sammy groans, knowing whatever Ben’s going to say next is going to be supremely mortifying. “Did you take my advice and use protection?”

Sammy squeezes his eyes shut in embarrassment, even though he can hear Jack laugh.

“We just fell asleep watching a movie,” Jack explains, but that’s going to mean absolutely nothing in the face of all the ways Ben can mock. “The Mothman Prophecies, actually.”

“Sammy deigned to watch the greatest Mothman movie ever made, without any cajoling on my part?” Ben’s _too_ smug.

“Laura Linney is in it,” Sammy grumbles, not opening his eyes. “She saves the whole thing from being a flop.”

“I don’t know, Richard Gere is really in his prime –”

Sammy tunes Ben out right then and there. 

Jack begins to debate Ben on the finer points of the film as compared with the general conceptualization of Mothman in popular culture, because of course he does. Ben's practically radiating with joy, Sammy can tell without even looking at him. Sammy barely understands a word of what they're saying, but he enjoys the sound of their voices washing over him.

Hemight drift off a little bit again, but it isn’t for long, because Ben suddenly interjects from Jack’s point about some tangent about common cryptid themes with “Oh my God, I’m starving. Breakfast? We’ve got eggs. Do you like them scrambled, Jack?”

“Yeah, that sounds great, thank you,” Jack’s voice is affectionate, nearly fond. Sammy hears enthusiastic clanking in the direction of the kitchen. Always worrying, when Ben enthusiastically clanks.  

“Don’t burn anything, especially yourself,” Sammy says just loud enough for Ben to hear. Ben makes a spluttering noise in defense, but Sammy ignores him in favor of turning to look up at Jack. “I was gonna make you breakfast, you know. But as long as Ben’s already up –”

Jack laughs, clearly having no problem with Sammy’s desire to stay exactly where he is now. Still, Sammy eventually shifts up to a sitting position, pulling Jack with him. Jack’s legs are practically in his lap now, though. So it’s not like they’re moving further apart, which Sammy wouldn't want in the slightest. 

“Do you guys have _plans_ today?” Ben says from the kitchen, with his back turned to them as he busies himself with the stove. Sammy keeps a watchful eye on the dials even from this distance. There’s no telling what Ben might accidentally do with an open, heated stove-top.

“We’re going to dinner tonight, which you _knew,_ ” Sammy answers, and then turns to Jack, not quite knowing what to say but figuring Jack would probably help him out a little, “but um, of course you're welcome to – to stay and hang out with me and Ben, until then.”

“I can do that,” Jack says, sounding pleased and maybe even a little surprised, though Sammy isn’t sure why he would be. Sammy’s pretty much always gonna want him around from now on, now that he can ask for that sort of thing. “It’d be nice to spend some time with you if you’re not busy today, Ben.”

“Aww,” Ben says, almost under his breath. “And dude….I’m pretty much never busy.”

“You’re not invited to dinner,” Sammy informs Ben, just in case Ben decides to insert himself. Not that Sammy’s necessarily against Ben tagging along on anything because he always wants Ben around, but he’d also like his first date with Jack to be just the two of them. Ben’s likely gonna be on the second and third date, he's already well-aware. “But you _are_ invited to Jack’s rugby match next weekend because I’m not going to sit with Lily alone.”

“Your sister is the most terrifying person alive,” Ben turns back around with actually somewhat decent looking scrambled eggs on the pan. He even manages to turn the stove off, though it’s with a guilty look like he almost forgot. “But of course I wanna go. Um – just out of curiosity –if I were to bring a friend of my own along…”

“Would that friend be your new girlfriend, the lovely Miss Emily Potter?” Sammy says, snide enough to make up for today's previous and future mocking from Ben about Jack. Ben mimes like he’s going to throw the pan in Sammy's direction. Sammy ducks in case he accidentally does.

“I think I might need to see you sometime before then,” Jack pokes Sammy’s shoulder with a slightly self-conscious look, but an affectionate one. “I’m used to seeing you every day at rehearsal – I might go into withdrawal without you.”

“Dude!” Ben says excitedly from where he’s pushing the scrambled eggs off the pan and onto three plates. Sammy closes his eyes, ready for Ben to rat him out. “Sammy was going into withdrawal not seeing you on the _weekends._ He was so sad and mopey every time.”

 “Shut up, traitor,” Sammy says, even the mortification lessens when Jack makes a fond noise and fully puts his arm around Sammy’s shoulder. Sammy leans in, but not enough to give Ben any satisfaction. “I have plenty of blackmail material whenever Emily comes over here, so – just remember that.”

Ben’s mouth tightens in a frown, but not a serious one. It’s more of a pout than anything. Sammy sticks his tongue out before returning his attention to Jack.

“Um, you could come over for dinner, any night,” Sammy says, figuring he’s not going to try to pretend he’s busy to seem cool. Jack already knows he’s not, presumably, or else he’s going to find out really soon. “I can banish Ben for the night. We can have pork chops. Ben really likes pork chops, so I’ll have to save some for him –”

“Pork chops sound great,” Jack cuts him off with a contented grin and a hand that runs down Sammy’s arm and makes him feel all tingly. “But I wouldn’t want Ben to be banished on my account, or relegate him to the leftovers when they’re his favorite.”

Sammy can tell without looking that Ben’s smile has grown at least six sizes. Upon a quick glance, Sammy ups the number to nine. Megawatt Ben Arnold.

Sammy has to focus on that because he can’t even come up with a response to how wonderful Jack’s offer is, especially because he knows it isn’t faked. It isn’t just to get Sammy closer without any regard for Ben – he knows Jack genuinely wants Ben around. Sammy's always paranoid, if a guy he meets seems to not mind Ben, that he's faking it so that Sammy will sleep with him.

With Jack, Sammy's only worry is whether Ben and Jack will get along better than Sammy does with either of them. Sammy already can tell how much they're going to have in common. And that's not even really a worry. It's more of a comfort than anything. 

Sammy can't articulate that to Jack, but there is a response Sammy has for Ben.  “Fuck, you’re gonna get catered to _so_ much in my relationship.”

“The best kind of catering!” Ben beams as Jack puts a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

“It’s not catering, I want to spend more time with both of you, together,” Jack says. “That’s your natural state of being, I’m pretty sure, I don’t ever want to come between that, so if you’re willing to let me infringe –”

“It’s not infringing,” Ben skirts the perimeter of the room as he balances the three plates of scrambled eggs. He hands Jack the smallest portion, and Sammy thinks he should switch until he realizes that Ben probably did that on purpose. He feels warm at that, too - it's not just Jack making space for Ben, but Ben's making the space right back. “I’m excited! Sammy’s been such a drama queen for weeks, moping about you every day. But now he’s welcomed happiness into his life, he’s accepted that he’s _not_ a Wyoming cowboy and instead he’s the protagonist of a modern gay romcom –”

“Oh my God, Ben, are you capable of _not_ ratting out my various anguishes –”

“Ooh, wait, before we talk about the anguishes, Jack needs to tell me what his romcom opinions are. This is very important. This is a test.”

“Alright,” Jack, bless him, sits up straighter to look across Sammy and right at Ben instead. The two of them both have extremely intent expressions, clearly taking this seriously.

Sammy pointedly rolls his eyes in full view of them both, and puts his head on Jack’s shoulder. Because this is _not_ a test, and it doesn’t matter to him in the slightest what Jack says in response.  

“One romantic comedy to rule them all. Go.”

There’s a moment’s silence, and Jack honest to God looks like he’s giving it a serious ponder. Eventually, Sammy groans and says “Jack, you don’t have to answer –”

“Well, I love Bridget Jones’ Diary,” Jack says, and Ben makes an approving noise. Ben is fond of all adaptations of Pride and Prejudice. Sammy does admit to himself that Bridget Jones isn’t a bad choice on Jack’s part at all. It’s a movie Sammy enjoys and would watch again, and one that Ben can properly read into later when they eat frozen bananas and gossip. “But no romcom will ever beat When Harry Met Sally.”

_Oh._

Ben’s mouth falls open in a delighted o shape, and he begins to make a sugar-sweet cooing noise.  Jack looks questioningly from Ben to Sammy, eyes widening with potential concern. 

Sammy buries his head against Jack’s neck so as to not make eye contact with either of them. If he looks at Ben, he might try to tackle him. If he looks at Jack, he might tell him that he loves him right here and now.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” Jack's clearly apprehensive even though he laughs. Sammy can see Ben dramatically put his hand over his heart.

“No –” Sammy tries to start, trying to formulate something to say about how that was the perfect answer, but Ben cuts him off.

Ben’s quite possibly never sounded more like a smug bastard in his entire life. “That’s Sammy’s _favorite movie of all time_. Once when he was drunk he cried about how he’d never have a love as perfect as theirs. Once he made me come home early from a New Year’s Eve party just so we could watch the final scene at midnight. Once he told me that I was the Carrie Fisher character in the film of his life. Once –”

Sammy lets the mortification wash over him, feeling it but also mostly…..not _really_ feeling it _._ Jack’s arm is still around him, even pulling him closer. Ben continues on his tangent about the sixty-two times Sammy’s seen that movie in his life and what he was using it as a coping mechanism for each time.

Jack’s hand moves up to stroke Sammy’s hair again, and leans in to kiss the top of his head. 

Sammy feels – safe. Even in the face of getting mercilessly ribbed about his unhealthy attachment to Meg Ryan, he knows the teasing is nothing but good-natured and that he’s with the two people in the world that he cares most about – and they care right back.  

Sammy could really get used to just listening to Jack and Ben talk. Even if it’s making fun of him. Maybe even _especially_ when it’s making fun of him. It’s probably his new favorite sound.


End file.
